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I 




DOROTHY DAINTY’S 
RED LETTER DAYS 


ipopular Stories 

By AMY BROOKS. 

Each illustrated by the Author. 

THE RANDY BOOKS. 

lamo. Cloth. Cover Designs by the Author. Price, $ 1.35 each. 

RANDY'S SUMMER. RANDY'S GOOD TIMES. 

RANDY'S WINTER. RANDY’S LUCK. 

RANDY AND HER FRIENDS. RANDY'S LOYALTY. 

RANDY AND PRUE. RANDY'S PRINCE. 


j’or l^ounger IRcabers 


DOROTHY DAINTY SERIES. 

Large tamo. Cloth. Cover Designs by the Author. Set in larg® 
English type. Price, $ 1.35 each. 

DOROTHY DAINfY. 

DOROTHY’S PLAYMATES. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT SCHOOL. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT THE SHORE. 

DOROTHY DAINTY IN THE CITY. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT HOME. 

DOROTHY DAINTY’S GAY TIMES. 

DOROTHY DAINTY IN THE COUNTRY. 

DOROTHY DAINTY’S WINTER. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT THE MOUNTAINS. 

DOROTHY DAINTY’S HOLIDAYS. 

DOROTHY DAINTY’S VACATION. 

DOROTHY DAINTY'S VISIT. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT CRESTVILLE. 

DOROTHY DAINTY’S NEW FRIENDS. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT GLENMORE. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT FOAM RIDGE. 

DOROTHY DAINTY AT THE STONE HOUSE 
DOROTHY DAINTY AT GEM ISLAND 

THE PRUE BOOKS. 

lamo. Cloth. Cover Designs by the Author. $ i.oo each. 
LITTLE SISTER PRUE. PRUE’S MERRY TIMES. 

PRUE AT SCHOOL. PRUE’S LITTLE FRIENDS. 

PRUE’S PLAYMATES. PRUE’S JOLLY WINTER. 



A JOLLY CAT TALE, 
trated. Price . . 


Large tamo. Cloth. 


Profusely Illus- 
$1*35 


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V 



“Do YOU SEE ANYTHIXQ MOVING THEBE AMONG THOSE ROSES?” 

Page 3. 


DOROTHY DAINTY’S 
RED LETTER DAYS 


BY 

AMY BROOKS 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


DOROTHY DAINTY 

Trade-Mark 

Registered in U. S. Patent Office 


■f ' 



Published, August, 1921 

CoPTUioBT, 1921, By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
^ll rights reserved 

DOROTHY DAINTY’S RED LETTER DAYS 


l^orwooD prc08 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 

VORWOOD. MASS. 

V. 8. A. 


SEP 21 1921 

§CI.A624469 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEB BAGE 

I In the Garden 1 

II Red Letter Days 21 

III Antony Arrives 39 

IV The House in the Square . . . .'58 

V The Circus Girl 78 

VI The Secret Cave ....... 97 

VII The Musical Play 114 

VIII Patricia’s Career 134 

IX The Sultan’s Daughter 154 

X By the Fountain 175 

XI Hasty Hal 196 

XII Around the May-Polb ...... 213 






ILLUSTRATIONS 

^‘Do YOU SEE ANYTHING MOVING THERE 

AMONG THOSE ROSES?’’ (Page 3) Frontispiece 


JAOINO 

PAGE 

Follow, follow me!” 32 

“Jest one word more, Sissy” 62 

He crawled to the edge op the ledge and 

PEERED OVER 102 

“Why, how funny you look in that rig!” 
said Arabella ’ . . . . 138 

“You can’t stop that fountain ip you bark 
ALL day” 186 


















DOROTHY DAINTY’S 
RED LETTER DAYS 


CHAPTER I 

IN THE GARDEN 

T he great garden at the Stone House 
was a wonderful garden. There were 
tall trees making cool, shady places; there 
were sunny spots that fairly blazed with 
great masses of brilliant flowers ; there was 
a fountain forever dancing in the sunlight, 
and at the far end of the garden an old sun- 
dial stood surrounded by tall flowering 
plants. Near the dial was a drinking-pool 
for birds. Butterflies flew here and there, 
at play in the sunshine, aud if by chance one 
1 


2 DOROTHY'S RED LETTER DAYS 


flew over the wall, he would quickly return 
to the lovely flower-beds, the dial, and the 
fountain, for in all Merrivale, no other gar- 
den was so fair. 

Dorothy Dainty would not have said she 
cared for one part of the garden more than 
another, but there was one spot where she 
dearly loved to sit, and Nancy, her dearest 
friend, loved it too. It was a cozy spot, 
where they often went to talk of pleasures 
that they had enjoyed, or of new delights 
that they were anticipating. 

One sunny morning they sat talking of the 
weeks that they had spent on Gem Island, 
of the fun and frolic during their stay. 

Little Fluff had been sitting very still, 
looking from one face to the other as if he 
were trying, with all his might, to under- 
stand what they were talking about. 

An instant later he sprang up, barking, 


IN THE GARDEN 


3 


and keeping his bright eyes upon a shadowy 
spot under the roseyines that overhung the 
pretty fence that capped the wall. It was 
at the rear of the house, and while the top of 
the wall was level with the road, the garden 
was a bit lower. At first they paid no atten- 
tion to little Fluff’s excitement, because he 
often barked at the bees that hummed among 
the roses, but when he began to bark louder, 
and to jump with each bark, they wondered 
what caused his antics. 

‘ ^ Fluff ! Fluff ! Come here ! ’ ’ cried Dor- 
othy, but the little dog raced toward the mass 
of shrubbery, and then came back, barking 
even louder than before. 

‘^Do you see anything moving there 
among those roses?” Dorothy asked. 

‘‘ Not a thing,” Nancy said, then; ‘‘Yes, 
it does look as if something were pushing the 
bushes this way and that.” 


4 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


^^But what could be up there It was a 
mystery. 

For a time they watched the spot that 
Fluff was watching, their eyes so fascinated 
by the vines that now were not only sway- 
ing, but were being pushed by some one, or 
something, so that petals fell from some of 
the larger blooms. 

There was a pause, and then the vines 
were pushed aside, and a comical-looking dog 
sprang through the opening that he had 
made, landing on the grass close to where 
Fluff was standing. 

He was a clumsy puppy, and Fluff drew 
closer to Dorothy, looking at the visitor with 
marked dislike. 

‘‘Isn’t that Patricia Levine’s dog?” said 
Dorothy, and before Nancy could answer a 
sharp-voiced reply came from over the wall. 


IN THE GARDEN 


5 


“Yes, it’s my dog, and I’m coming after 
him.” 

Patricia peeped over the low fence, and 
looked down at them. 

“WeU, what a place to jump down to,” 
she said, sharply. “ I ’ll not do it. I ’ll come 
around by the gateway, and get Algernon.” 

Patricia was always very glad of an ex- 
cuse to go to the Stone House, yet she always 
spoke as if she saw no beauty in house or 
garden. She had an unpleasant habit of 
boasting of her own belongings, and speak- 
ing slightingly of anything that another pos- 
sessed. 

Algernon, in clumsy fashion, was now try- 
ing to coax Fluff into a frolic by bracing his 
forepaws for a moment, and then rushing at 
the little spaniel, but Fluff could not be 
coaxed to play. 


6 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


It was easy to see that he did not admire 
his visitor. 

^‘Oh, such a walk, ’way around to the gate, 
and along the driveway, but here I am. 
Who’d ever thought that Algernon would 
squeeze through that fence and the vines, 
and then jump down here ? He certainly is 
the cutest dog, and it’s wonderful to see him 
mind me. Come here, Algernon. Come 
here, Isay!” 

To show not obedience, but utter indepen- 
dence, Algernon at once rolled over and over 
on the grass. 

‘‘Come Jiere!^^ cried Patricia, stamping 
her foot, and Algernon stopped rolling, look- 
ing at Patricia with a comical leer, one ear 
standing erect, the other lying flat. 

A shout, followed by a rollicking laugh, 
made the three little girls look again toward 


IN THE GARDEN 


1 


the wall, where Jack Tiverton was peeping 
over. 

‘‘I heard you, Patricia, when you said that 
it was wonderful to see him mind you, and 
I’m sure that’s true. I guess he so seldom 
minds that it surely is a wonderful sight 
when he happens to.” 

‘‘Jack Tiverton, you’re the most provok- 
ing boy in this town ! ’ ’ cried Patricia, ‘ ‘ and I 
just simply wish — ” 

“Don’t say too much, Patricia,” Jack said, 
with a tormenting laugh as he turned and 
walked down the avenue. 

Jack Tiverton was a favorite with both 
boys and girls, and it was not often that he 
teased his friends, but Patricia’s silly boast- 
ing disgusted every one, and Jack seldom 
lost a chance to vex her. Patricia turned to 
Dorothy. 


8 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


^^Did you like staying all those weeks on 
Gem Island ? W asn ’t it rather dull ’ 

‘‘We surely did not find it dull,’’ Dorothy 
said. ‘ ‘ It was lovely there. ’ ’ 

“Betty Chase was at Foam Ridge,” said 
Nancy, “and she came often to spend the 
day with us, and we went over to visit her. 
We had good times while we were there. 
I’m sure you would have thought Gem Is- 
land fine if you had been staying there.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Patricia said, coolly. 
“I’ve had a wonderful time right here at 
Merrivale. You see, I didn’t have time to 
go away this summer, because I’m studying 
for a very grand career. Well, come, Alger- 
non, I’ll run along.” 

She reached for his leash, but Algernon 
had decided that he would “run along,” too, 
and dodging between her feet, he fied down 
the driveway, Patricia in hot pursuit. 


IN THE GARDEN 


9 


‘‘What did Patricia mean?’’ Dorothy 
asked, turning toward Nancy, and looking up 
at her with puzzled eyes. Nancy laughed. 

“I’ve not the least idea,” she said, “and 
I’m not sure that Patricia knows, either.” 

Patricia, with Algernon tugging at his 
leash, turned toward home, and surely no one 
ever sped along the avenue at a more pecu- 
liar pace. 

At first the puppy thought he’d like to run, 
and he galloped ahead at a speed that made 
Patricia “step lively.” Then he decided to 
explore a hole at the base of a tree, and he 
commenced to make the dirt fiy. 

“Oh, you little torment! Come along!” 
she cried pulling hard upon the leash. 

Algernon paid no heed to Patricia but con- 
tinued to dig until a big cat crossed his path. 
She spit at him, and he bounced toward her, 
barking. After the cat had gone, he de- 


10 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 

cided to curl up on the grass at the edge of 
the sidewalk, and enjoy a nap. Surely he 
was provoking. 

‘‘Oh, how you act!’’ cried Patricia. 
“Now let me tell you you’re going home if 
I have to carry you.” She picked him up, 
but he wiggled from her grasp, and darted 
down the avenue. She could not get near 
enough to grasp the leash. 

The breeze caught at her hat, and she 
snatched it off, and ran down the avenue af- 
ter the racing puppy. 

Molly and Flossie ran across the lawn, and 
out to the sidewalk to^atch the flying flgure. 

“Why does Patricia hurry so?” ques- 
tioned Flossie. 

Molly Merton looked at her in surprise. 

“Why, Flossie Barnet! She has to 
hurry,” said Molly, “the puppy makes her 
rush.” 


IN THE GARDEN 


11 


They turned toward the house, each with 
her arm about the other’s waist. 

^‘Dosn’t it seem fine to have Dorothy and 
Nancy at home again?” said Mollie. They 
had already forgotten Patricia. 

‘^Oh, yes,” Flossie said quickly, ‘‘because 
we always have such good times whenever 
we ’re together. And Molly, ’ ’ she continued, 
“much as we missed them, if Arabella and 
Patricia had been away instead — ” 

She paused and looked up at Molly. 

“O dear, what I was going to say wasn’t 
very pleasant so I guess I won’t say it,” she 
said in an odd little voice. 

“Well, I know what you meant,” said 
Mollie, “and I’ll say it right out loud. If 
Arabella and Patricia had been away all 
summer, we’d not have missed them. Why, 
Flossie Barnet! You just look at me be- 
cause I said that. There’s no harm in that. 


12 DOROTHY'S RED LETTER DAYS 


but I know one thing. If I’d said I’d have 
missed them, that would have been naughty, 
because it wouldn’t have been true.” 

^‘Hurrah! I mean called a 

laughing voice, and Reginald Dean vaulted 
over the hedge, and joined them. 

‘‘Guess what I’ve just heard. Oh, but 
you’d never guess, so I’ll tell you. There’s 
just no such thing as saying when school will 
begin. The repairs they’re making aren’t 
nearly half done, and the workmen are wait- 
ing for material to work with. The head 
man has gone on a strike, and I heard Mr. 
Tiverton telling another man that he be- 
lieved that school would open at least a 
month later than usual. He said he thought 
some one was greatly at fault that the work 
had not been begun earlier, but I think he’s a 
fine fellow, whoever he is. Jack and I are 
already planning enough fun for that month 


IN THE GARDEN 


13 


to fill the days full. Wonder if we could 
coax ’em to work a bit slower than usual, so 
as to stretch the time over into a month and 
a half.” 

^‘Wouldn’t you be better pleased if it 
didn’t open at all?” cried Jack Tiverton as 
he joined them. 

‘^Oh, I like school well enough when I get 
back, and at work, but when it is still sum- 
mer, and we’re out of doors all day, the 
schoolhouse doesn’t look tempting to me,” 
Reginald replied. 

‘‘Works just opposite with me,” Jack re- 
plied. “I’m always eager to get back to 
school, and I enjoy it until long toward the 
last of the season, when I begin to wish 
school closed earlier.” 

“Oh, you two will work like fun the min- 
ute you get inside the schoolroom. You 
talked just like this last season, and every 


14 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

one knows how you both worked,’^ Molly 
said. 

‘‘Come on! ’’ cried Jack. “If you and I 
are going fishing to-day, we’ll have to be 
thinking of starting.” 

“I’m with you!” said Reginald, and the 
two hurried away to enjoy what they be- 
lieved would be an exciting fishing trip. 

“I’d like to have gone with them,” Mol- 
lie said, “but I wouldn’t ask them to let me 
go fishing.” 

“Why?” Flossie asked, her blue eyes 
round with surprise. “I just know that 
they would have said ‘yes,’ if you’d asked 
them.” 

“They might have said, ‘yes,’ but all the 
same I wouldn’t ask them, because the last 
time I asked Jack if he’d show me how to 
catch a fine string of fish, he laughed and 
said it wouldn’t be any use for me to go on a 


IN THE GARDEN 


15 


fishing trip, because I couldn’t catch any- 
thing.” 

‘‘Well, I don’t see why you couldn’t,” 
Flossie said. 

“Did he say why?” 

“Yes, and that was what made me angry,” 
Mollie replied, “for Jack laughed, and said 
I couldn’t keep still long enough to catch 
anything. He says you can’t talk when 
you’re waiting for a bite. As if I couldn’t 
keep still!” 

They were walking toward the red ham- 
mock that swung lightly in the breeze. 
Molly was thinking of Jack’s provoking 
words, and Flossie was wishing that he had 
not said them. 

They seated themselves in the big ham- 
mock, and for a time neither spoke. Flos- 
sie had just thought of something that she 
wanted to say, when the sound of a wee voice 


16 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

speaking came from behind a big clump of 
shrubbery. 

They left the hammock and crept softly 
across the grass to a point where they could 
peep over the bushes. 

Mollie laid her hand upon Flossie’s arm, 
and softly whispered: ‘‘Hush!” It was a 
pretty sight that the sunlight beautified, as 
its warm rays fell upon the sunny curls of 
little Elfin, upon her white dress, and upon 
the two plump, white rabbits that seemed 
listening to what she was saying. 

The little girl sat on a low stool, shaking 
her curly head, and with a wee forefinger up- 
lifted, appeared to be giving them some good 
advice. 

'‘You is greedy, yes, greedy F' she was say- 
ing, “an’ it’s ’gusting to see you eat ev’y 
minute, an’ not stop ’t all. No wonder you’s 
fat, when you’s eatin’ all a time! There’s 


IN THE GARDEN 


17 


’nother thing I mus^ tell you an’ that is this ; 
It isn’t p’lite to wiggle your noses when I’m 
talking to you. You mustn’t do it. Oh, 
what’s the use of tollin’ you when you don’t 
listen, but keep right on eatin’, an’ your 
noses wigglin’ jus’ same as before.” 

She picked up the smaller of the two, and 
held her close. 

‘‘Ellen Mary, I love you, even when you 
don’t mind, and you, too, Harry Jack, I love 
you just as much. 

“Oh, I see you! ” she said, and dropped 
the rabbit to run to Flossie. ‘ ‘ I named them 
both this morning,” she said. 

Mollie and Flossie could hardly keep from 
laughing, but little Elfin saw nothing funny 
enough for any one to laugh at in her efforts 
to train her pets, or name the rabbits. 

“Don’t you like their names?” she asked. 


“Ido.” 


18 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

“But why did you give them each two 
names Mollie asked. 

“So I could name ’em for two peoples/^ 
she said. “ ^ Ellen Mary’ is for our two 
maids, an’ ‘Harry Jack’ is for — oh, you 
know who those names b’long to.” 

“Uncle Harry and Jack Tiverton?” said 
Flossie. 

“Yes,” agreed Elfin, “an’ I think those 
names are lovely. The bunnies like their 
names, I know.” 

“Oh, you funny baby!” said Mollie, “how 
do you know?” 

“ ’Cause the minute I told them, they be- 
gan to hop, an’ that’s what I do when new 
things are gived to me.” 

Mollie and Flossie ran back to the ham- 
mock, and when they were seated in it, little 
Elfin, who had followed them, squeezed in 
between them. 


IN THE GARDEN 


19 


‘‘Eoom for all free of us. All aboard for 
somewhere!” shei cried. ‘‘All aboard for 
somewhere and we’ll dit there quick!” 

Of all the children who lived near the 
stone house, Arabella Correyville was surely 
the only one that was odd or strange, and a 
strange child she surely was. 

Her father, Robert Correyville, had al- 
lowed his sister to train Arabella, believing 
that thus he was making things easier for his 
wife, who was not strong. 

Arabella was wholly in the care of the el- 
derly Aunt Matilda, and she seemed like a 
little old woman, instead of a little girl. 

She had not been over to the Stone House 
since Dorothy and Nancy had returned, nor 
had she been over to play with Molly or Flos- 
sie. Patricia Levine was her dearest friend, 
but for weeks Patricia had spent so much 
time with Madam Gazooks, who lived near 


20 DOROTHY RED LETTER DAYS 


the square, that she had not been over to see 
Arabella. 

Arabella had heard a great deal about 
Madam, because, when they had met, Patri- 
cia had talked of little else. As Patricia 
told it, the Madam could make any one beau- 
tiful. Arabella now stood beside the little 
hut that her cousin, Leander had built for 
Aunt Matilda’s geese. There was a little 
space around the hut enclosed in wire, and 
the great white geese roamed about their lit- 
tle yard. 

They came over to where Arabella was 
standing, and stared at her as if they had 
never seen her before. 

'‘Patricia ^ays that Madam can make the 
awkwardest person graceful. Well, I wish 
she would make you graceful, you big gawky 
things, for if she did, then I’d certainly let 
her try to see what she could do with me.” 


CHAPTER II 

RED LETTER DAYS 

HERE was one room at the Stone 



jL House that was the favorite room on 
rainy days, because it was so light and 
cheery. There were no large trees near 
either of its windows, it was on the second 
floor, its walls were rich red, and the gray 
reed chairs had red cushions. 

The great Persian rug had a crimson cen- 
ter, and the room, as a whole, seemed aglow 
with cheer. 

‘‘We’ll get our water-colors, and paint 
while we wait for the sun to come out,” Dor- 
othy said. 


21 


22 DOROTHY RED LETTER DAYS 

‘‘And it is lucky we have pictures to color, 
because we can ’t draw very well. ’ ’ 

There was a little table near the window, 
and Aunt Charlotte as she passed through 
the room, placed two books upon it. 

“There are some very old books that I 
brought for you and Nancy to enjoy. They 
are fashion-books of long ago, and I fancy 
you will think it great fun to color the pic- 
tures. Old Mrs. Pendleton has many very 
old and valuable books, but these, she said, 
were of no especial value, and she thought 
that Dorothy and Nancy might like to color 
the quaint old fashion-plates.’’ 

“Oh, what fun for a rainy day!” cried 
Dorothy, and soon they were seated at the 
little table, coloring dresses, bonnets, and 
cloaks with the gayest of colors. 

“Here’s a lady in my book wearing a ball- 
gown with ruffles and ruffles all over the 


RED LETTER DAYS 


23 


skirt, and she has roses, a big one over each 
ear,’^ Dorothy said. ‘‘My! But she looks 
funny ! I think I ’ll paint her dress pink and 
make the roses pink, too.” 

“And I’ve found a lady on horseback,” 
said Nancy, “and such a costume for riding, 
I never heard of!” 

“Let’s see it,” Dorothy said, leaning to- 
ward her. 

“Do you suppose people ever went out rid- 
ing dressed like that?” Dorothy said, her 
eyes wide with wonder at the funny figure. 

“Well, this is a fashion-book,” Nancy said, 
“so it must be that they did.” A moment 
she was silent while she read the description 
of the droll riding-habit. 

“Just listen,” she said. “ ‘The habit is 
dark green, as is also the hat, whose only 
trimming consists of two large pink plumes 
with crimson tips.’ Well, Miss Lady, I’ll 


24 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

paint yonr habit the colors that this book 
describes, but it surely is a funny riding- 
habit,’’ Nancy concluded, and she began tint- 
ing the plumes. 

There, I’ve made this lady’s face too 
red, ’ ’ declared Dorothy a moment later. ‘ ‘ I 
meant to have just a lovely rose tint on her 
cheeks, and I’ve made her look as if she had 
a fever.” 

^‘Put some clean water on her cheeks and 
use the blotter. That might take off some 
of the color,” Nancy said. 

Dorothy tried that, but she could not re- 
move a bit of the color from the lady’s 
flushed cheeks. 

‘‘Never mind,” she said, “that just proves 
it was her own natural color because it 
simply won't come off with water.” 

“Oh- 00 ! Here’s a winter scene, and just 
look! The first lady is wearing a skating- 


RED LETTER DAYS 


25 


costume of white velvet, and white furs. 
White velvet for skating! Let’s hope she’s 
a good skater, and so not likely to sit down 
on that rather dirty-looking ice. ’ ’ 

Nancy leaned to look at the picture. 
‘‘The lady looks so thin and tired, I’d say 
she’d rather sit down anywhere than try to 
skate,” she said. 

“She’s smiling,” said Dorothy. 

“See her teenty waist ! It ’s not more than 
half as big as mine, and she’s a grown-up 
lady,” Nancy said, “and that tall lady be- 
hind her is dressed in velvet, but it isn’t 
white. Let’s see what it says under the pic- 
ture.” 

“This beautiful skating-costume is made 
from red velvet, the coat lined with brocade 
of the same color,” read Dorothy. 

“Well, who ever heard of dressing like 
that to go skating?” cried Nancy. “Aunt 


26 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 

Charlotte, do come and look at these funny 
fashion-plates.’’ 

Aimt Charlotte, looking over the shoulders 
of the two little painters, agreed with them 
that the ladies were too richly dressed for 
skating, but she added, ‘‘It may be that they 
thought that they could skate with more zeal 
if they wore fine garments.” 

“Oh, what a funny idea !” cried Nancy. 

“Droll, surely,” Aunt Charlotte said, “yet 
there was once a great painter who had the 
same idea. Dorothy, do you remember how 
often your father has said that he would not 
sell that tiny painting that hangs near a 
group of larger pictures in the living-room? 
That no matter how large a sum of money 
was offered for it, it would not tempt him?” 

“Yes, I know he prizes the picture, and I 
think it is beautiful. The little figures are 
so dainty, the ladies in their fine brocades, 


RED LETTER DAYS 


27 


and the men with their velvet coats, and 
satin waistcoats,’’ replied Dorothy. 

‘‘The great artist, Fortuny, painted that 
picture, and it is said that he always dressed 
in silk and velvet when about to paint those 
textures. He said that only when thus 
dressed, could he do his finest work.” 

should say that he must have spoiled 
many nice waistcoats, and satin breeches if 
he wore them when he was painting,” Dor- 
othy said, ‘‘but if he painted better pictures, 
why then it surely was worth more than all 
the fine clothes that he daubed with his 
paints.” 

Aunt Charlotte laughed. 

“I have read that once when a number of 
his acquaintances were at his studio, one of 
his friends said what you have just said, 
Dorothy. The great painter is said to have 
turned with much dignity, and replied^: 


28 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DATS 


^Sir, I put my paint upon the canvas; 
not on myself/ ’’ 

“Well, I’m sure of one thing,” said Nancy, 
“and that is that what I wear will make no 
dhB^erence with my painting. If I wore a 
satin dress, my pictures would look just as 
dauby.” 

“I think the pictures are neatly colored,” 
Aunt Charlotte said, “and it is a fine way to 
spend a rainy day. Turn the page and try 
again.” 

“We will,” Dorothy said, “and this time 
they’ll look better.” 

“All right,” agreed Nancy, cheerfully. 
“What’s on your page?” 

“A graceful lady wearing a handsome 
gown. Two little spaniels are in the picture, 
one on a cushion on which she’s leaning, and 
the other on the rug at her feet. I’ll do my 
best to make them look fine. ” 


RED LETTER DAYS 


29 


Nancy turned her page. 

OH-00 ! This is funnier than the skat- 
ing-costume. The lady in this picture is 
picking pears from a little tree, and Nancy, 
her dress is trimmed with flowers and lace ! 
The basket. sits on the grass, and it’s a fancy 
basket that wouldn’t be strong enough to 
hold one of Arabella’s bottles of pills. 

‘‘It says the dress is yellow and the lace 
deeper yellow, and the flowers on the draped 
skirt are nasturtiums. 

“Well, that sounds fine, and I’ll paint it, 
and see how it looks.” The forenoon sped 
swiftly, and so interested were they in their 
painting that they had not noticed that it was 
no longer raining. 

“Oh, look!” cried Dorothy, “There’s a big 
patch of blue sky, and— yes, the sun is com- 
ing out!” 

“Hello! Hello!” called a gay voice, under 


30 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


the window, and they rushed to lift the sash 
and look out. It was Reginald Dean who 
had shouted to them, but Mollie and Flossie 
were with him, their faces as eager as his. 

‘‘Come out!’’ they cried, Mollie Merton 
adding; “It’s cooler now, and just fine for 
a romp.” 

They raced down to the hall, and out on the 
piazza. 

The gardener had run to the stable for 
shelter from the shower, leaving the heap of 
vines upon the lawn, together with his prim- 
ing shears. “ If J ohn has been trimming the 
vines, he means to throw these long pieces 
away,” said Nancy, “so let’s tie them to- 
gether, and then I’ll tell you what we’ll do 
with them.” 

“All right,” agreed Reginald, “but why 
not tell us now?” 

“It’s more fun to have you do as I ask you. 


RED LETTER DAYS 


31 


and when the vines are tied so that they are 
like one long vine, we’ll, — oh, you’ll see what 
we’ll do,” Nancy said. 

^ ‘ There !” she cried a moment later, ‘‘Now 
they are tied together, and we’ll all take hold 
of it, and play, “Snap the whip.” 

“Will it snapf^^ Molly asked. 

“S’pose it will hold together?” Flossie 
asked, cautiously. 

“I don’t believe it will,” Eeginald said, 
with a laugh, “so I’ll be the ‘snapper’ on the 
end, and I’ll be the one to ‘come a cropper,’ 
instead of either of you girls.” 

“Oh, we’ve tied them together so tightly 
that they’re hound to hold. Come on!” 
Molly shouted, snatching at the stout vine, 
and with a will they grasped it, and how they 
laughed! Their efforts at tying the vines 
had been wasted, for the moment that their 
eager hands grasped it, the several knots 


32 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 

slipped, and each stood holding a short sec- 
tion of vine. 

They tossed the vines in a heap just as 
John had left them, and spent an hour in 
playing lively games. 

‘‘Hide and Seek” was always a great fav- 
orite at the Stone House, because the garden 
offered so many fine hiding-places. Now 
when all the best places had been “used up,” 
as Eeginald expressed it, there was another 
game that they always enjoyed and Dorothy 
agreed to be “it.” 

She led the way to an open space near the 
great garden vase, and then turning her back 
to them she began to sing the first verse of 
the game : 

‘‘Follow, follow me ! 

Follow, if you dare ! 

For I shall quickly turn. 

And catch you unaware. 

Softly they crept after her. 



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RED LETTER DAYS 33 

She paused, not looking back, then began 
again to walk, singing the second verse : 

‘^Follow, follow me! 

Follow, follow, flit! 

The one that I shall catch. 

Will surely next be 

A long way she led them, across the lawn, 
around the fountain, up one path and down 
another, and then, when they least expected 
it, she quickly turned, and tagged Eeginald 
before he could get away. 

Eeginald knew that they would think that 
he, like Dorothy, would walk a long time be- 
fore turning, so he repeated the first verse 
that Dorothy had sung, and, without walking 
a step, whirled about just in time to catch 
Nancy’s outstretched hand. She had crept 
up close behind him, intending to twitch his 
sleeve. 

‘‘Not quite quick enough, Nancy,’^ he said 


34 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


with a laugh, as he tagged her. Nancy 
caught Mollie almost as soon as she had said 
the verse. Dorothy and Reginald were too 
clever at dodging to be easily caught, but 
Flossie was soon captured. 

A long whistle made Reginald look toward 
the great gates, where Jack stood waiting 
for him. 

‘‘You’re a great chap!” said Jack, “out 
here playing with the girls, and forgetting 
the fine errand you started out to do.” 

“Errand?” said Reginald, “What er- 
rand?” 

“Oh, ho! That’s a good one,” cried Jack. 
“You don’t even remember that there was an 
errand to be done? Well, your father just 
told me to tell you, that he is still waiting for 
the hinge that he sent you for.” 

“Oh, sure enough,” said Reginald. “He 
told me to hurry, too. W ell, see me hurry ! ’ ’ 


RED LETTER DAYS 


35 


and off he ran, followed by the laughter of 
the girls. 

‘‘I guess I’d better follow him to see that 
he doesn’t forget that errand again,” Jack 
said, as he darted down the avenue after him. 

As usual, little Flossie Barnet, the young- 
est of the playmates, was ready with an ex- 
cuse for Eeginald. ‘‘Eeginald really means 
to do things that he promises to do, only he 
just forgets all about them,” she said. 

‘‘But, Flossie, you know he ought not to 
forget them,” said Mollie. 

“Well, he doesn’t mean to,” persisted 
Flossie, “I know he doesn’t.” 

That evening, after dinner, the cheery liv- 
ing-room was most inviting with the logs 
blazing in the fireplace. The day had been 
warmer in the afternoon, but when evening 
came, a cool breeze came up, and Dorothy 


36 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

and Nancy drew a low seat up toward the 
fire, and sat watching the dancing flames. 

Aunt Charlotte sat near, busy with a bit 
of needlework, while Mrs. Dainty turned the 
pages of a new fashion magazine. 

‘^See the red flashes in the fire,’’ said Dor- 
othy. ‘ ‘ They are so very red that they make 
me think of something Jack said to-day. 
He said that when he got the highest mark 
for composition of any in his class last sea- 
son, it was a ‘ red letter day ’ for him. I won- 
der what he meant 

“I heard him say that,” Nancy said, 
‘‘Aunt Charlotte, do you know what he 
meant ? What are ‘ red letter days ’ ? ” 

“Supposed to be lucky days,” Aunt Char- 
lotte explained, “and doubtless that is what 
Jack meant, but I think hours of study must 
have had more to do with his high rank in his 
class than luck. But ‘ Bed Letter ’ days have 


RED LETTER DAYS 


37 


a meaning of their own. The old monks who 
wrote their own prayer-books, carefully 
painted the letters that formed the words, 
and crudely shaped notes for music, with 
brushes, and colors, making all capital letters 
red. Some of those books we called mis- 
sals. 

^‘In our church calendars. Saints’ days 
are painted in ‘red letters’. 

“To-day people speak of fortunate days, 
or especially happy days as ‘red letter’ days. 
Sometimes one day of a month on which 
something delightful happens will stand out 
strikingly apart from all other days of that 
month because whatever occurred on that 
day made us very happy.” 

“I mean to take a calendar, and paint all 
the best days red. The numbers will be 
black, but I’ll make a red outline around the 
figures, and paint a red border around the 


38 DOROTEY^S BED LETTER DAYS 

little square in which the number is 
printed,’’ Dorothy said. 

‘‘We have good times every day,” said 
Nancy, “will you paint every day on the cal- 
endar red?” 

i ‘ ‘ Oh, no, ” Dorothy said, quickly, ‘ ‘ because 
Aunt Charlotte said the ‘red letter’ days 
were ‘special’ days, so I’ll paint the days that 
have something wonderful happen.” 
i As they sat before the fire, Nancy’s hand 
stole into Dorothy’s, and as they watched the 
sparks, they were thinking much the same 
thoughts. They were wondering what fine 
thing would happen, and how soon. 

“Don’t you hope something will hurry up 
and happen?” Nancy asked, leaning eagerly 
forward, so as to look into Dorothy’s face. 

“Oh, yes, I do,” agreed Dorothy, “so I can 
paint the first ‘red-letter’ day in my calen- 
dar.” 


CHAPTER III 


ANTONY ABRIVE8 

/L NTONY’S here! Antony’s here!” 

-ajL cried Nancy. ‘ ‘ I just know it is An- 
tony by the way he walks.” She had 
climbed to the flat coping of the wall, and 
was hopping first on one foot, and then the 
other. 

‘‘Ah, now. Miss Nancy, have a fought 
about where ye’re shtandin’,” cried the old 
gardener, “Sure, an’ it’s mesilf as wouldn’t 
thry ter do a jig loike that up atop av thot 
wall.” 

Nancy was too excited to heed John, for 
surely that lad whom she had seen walking 
along beside Uncle Harry must have been 
Antony Marx, the lad who had been such a 


40 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

pleasant friend during the weeks that she 
and Dorothy had enjoyed on lovely little 
Gem Island. 

Uncle Harry had invited the boy to come 
to Merrivale for a long visit, and now he had 
arrived. A moment she stood watching, 
then as Uncle Harry paused at his gate and 
pointed toward the Stone House, she saw the 
boy turn and look that way. 

“Yes, yes, it is Antony!’’ she cried, and 
springing from the wall, she ran to the house 
to find Dorothy and teU her the news. 

“Now, don’t that bate all?” cried John. 
“Don’t it bate all?” he repeated, “A 
young thing loike that kin jump around 
crazy loike, an’ break niver a bone at all, an’ 
a ol’ chap loike me could bust twenty bones 
maybe, just shteppin’ a bit careless loike, 
over a shtick, or a shtone that happened ter 
lay in me path. 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


41 


‘‘Well, when I was a wee lad, I could do 
the hop, skip, an’ jump wid the hesht av 
thim, an’ I moind the toime whin I fell out’n 
a windy. * Twinty feet I dhrapped ter the 
ground, an’ landed on the top av me head, an’ 
niver cracked me skull.” 

“All of which proves you had a thick skull, 
John,” said the laughing groom who had 
overheard his remarks. 

“Thick is it? Sure it’s thick, lad. No 
Oirishman has a head loike an egg-shell. An 
Oirishman’s head is made thick a-purpose, so 
if he gets into a bit’ av a scrap wid any- 
body, an’ gits the warsht av it, a rap on the 
head won’t hurt him at all, at all. A good, 
hard thump wid a big cudgel wad only wake 
him up.” 

“Dorothy, where are you? Dorothy!” 
Nancy cried as she ran along the broad pi- 
azza, and in at the open door. 


42 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


‘‘Here!’’ said Dorothy, “Just looking at a 
picture and waiting for you.” 

Nancy found her in the living-room, be- 
fore the painting of the Grand Canal, Ven- 
ice. 

“This is the picture that Antony Marx 
said he’d like to see,” she said. “Don’t you 
remember that day when he told us of his 
father’s travels, and how he had always 
begged him to tell him more about Venice, 
its gondolas, and canals'?” 

“Yes, and you told him about this picture 
and he said he’d so like to see it, and he’ll 
surely see it soon now, for Dorothy — he’s 
here.” 

“Oh, Nancy, how do you know? Who 
told you?” 

“Nobody told me. I saw him. He was 
walking with Uncle Harry. I thought he 
walked like Antony, and when Uncle Harry 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


43 


turned, and pointed toward this house, as if 
telling him where we lived, and the boy 
turned to look, I saw his face, and it was 
Antony.’’ 

‘‘I’m so glad he has come,” said Dorothy. 
“I wasn’t quite sure he would, because he 
seemed shy when he promised, and I won- 
dered if after all, he might not come. We’ll 
do all we can to make him glad he’s here.” 

“Indeed we will,” Nancy agreed, and Dor- 
othy found her water-colors and painted a 
big,* red letter A on her calendar, for the day 
of Antony’s arrival. 

“It’s a day when we know we can begin to 
make him glad to be here,” she said to her- 
self, and gave the A another coat of red to 
make it brighter. 

Over at Flossie Barnet’s house Antony 
was, at that moment, receiving a hearty wel- 


come. 


44 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


The house was large and roomy, and Mr. 
and Mrs. Barnet and Flossie, Uncle Harry 
and his wife, and little Elfin found it de- 
lightful to have a home together. 

After all had greeted him. Elfin, who had 
been out with the nursemaid, came running 
through the hall. 

At the door of the living-room she paused 
an instant. 

‘‘Don’t you remember me, little Elfin?” 
Antony said. 

“Oh, I know now!” she cried. “First I 
fought I didn^t, but now I do! You’re the 
boy that kept all a time finding pretty shells 
for me and I love you,” and she ran quickly 
to him. 

“I’ll love you now, Ant’ny, if you got some 
shells in your pottets.^^ 

They all laughed at the small girl’s at- 
tempt to “drive a bargain,” but Antony saw 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


45 


the little lips quiver and knew that she did 
not like the laughter. 

‘^Come right here, Elfin, and see what I 
did bring you,” he said, and she ran to him, 
saying; ‘‘I want what you bringed, but I’d 
love you if you didn’t bring nuffin/^ 

‘‘I know you would,” he said, putting an 
arm around her, while with the other hand, 
he drew from his pocket a little box. 

‘‘Open it,” he said, but she looked up at 
him with wide wondering eyes. 

“Did you truly bring it for me?” she 
asked, before opening it. 

“Truly for you,” he said. 

He untied the string that held the cover in 
place, and Elfin opened the little box. 

“Oh! Oh! Ev’y one come see what he 
bringed me!” she cried. They crowded 
around Antony and little Elfin. There in 
the little box was a perfect starfish, some tiny 


46 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


pearl shells, and a branch of red coral. 

‘^*The starfish and the shells come from the 
beach at Foam Ridge/’ said Antony, ‘‘but 
the bit'of coral I begged father to give me 
for little Elfin. It is a piece that in some 
way got broken off from a large piece that 
father brought home from one of his long 
trips.” 

The pretty things were duly admired, and 
Elfin was very happy, and for hours she car- 
ried the little box around with her, hum- 
ming softly to herself as she examined her 
treasures. 

Antony was surprised to find himself feel- 
ing .almost as if he had always lived at Mer- 
riVale, a*nd in his room that night he wrote a 
letter. 

‘‘Dear Father and Mother: 

“I arrived here, safe and sound, and I 
never had the least idea that all the folks 
here would be so glad to see me. They seem 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


47 


to know just how to make a fellow feel at 
home. At Foam Ridge they’re up late at 
night at the hotel, but folks like us go to bed 
by nine, and get up at four or five in the 
morning. Up here they are up until eleven 
or later, and not up until late in the morning. 
It is half past eleven now, so if I am intend- 
ing to turn in before twelve I’ll have to be 
getting ready now and finish this letter in 
the morning. I am sleepy now, so I’ll prob- 
ably go right to sleep, even although I’ll miss 
the lapsing of the waves that sing me to 
sleep at home.” 

True to his promise, Antony was up early 
the next morning, and in his letter he told of 
meeting Flossie, and Mollie Merton, of J ack 
Tiverton who had rushed over to greet him, 
of Reginald, adding : 

‘^They are all so kind, so genuinely glad 
I’m here, that I am more than glad myself. 
I’m going up to the Stone House to see 
Dorothy Dainty and Nancy Ferris, and if 
the others were so glad to see me, I know 
those two will be.” 


The letter went swiftly to the little post- 


48 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


office at Foam Ridge, and the genial captain, 
waiting for the mail to be sorted, almost 
.snatched it, and hurried off with it. He 
wasted no time on the way, and when he 
reached home, he insisted that his wife stop 
ironing, and listen while he read it aloud. 

When he had finished reading the letter he 
peered over his glasses at his wife. 

‘^Well, Ma, I guess our boy got a warm 
welcome up there,’’ he said. 

‘^He’d orter,” responded his wife, ‘‘for 
he’s a extry fine boy, our Antony is.” 

“Sho! Ye’re biased in his favor, Ma,” 
the captain said, with a chuckle. 

“So be you, if you’d only own up to it,” 
replied his wife. 

“I cZo own up to it,” the captain said, “and 
I don’t care who knows that I think well of 
my son.” 

Antony soon felt as much at home as if he 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


49 


had been a long time at Merrivale, instead of 
a few days. 

Jack and he were fast friends at once, the 
other boys found him a fine comrade, and a 
good friend, and he joined in all their sports 
with a will. 

Arabella and Patricia were very amusing 
to him, and he watched them closely as if 
wondering what new freak would move them 
to do funnier things than ever before. 

‘^They certainly are droll,” he said one 
day to Jack, ‘‘and the oddest thing to me is 
that two girls can manage to be so funny 
without trying to be, or even knowing that 
they are.” 

“They couldn^t be anything but funny if 
they tried,” Jack said. 

Patricia tried to be very friendly with 
Antony, and she confided to Arabella that she 
thought him almost as fine-looking as the pic- 


50 DOEOTEY^S BED LETTER DAYS 


ture of a circus rider on the bill-board down 
near the square. 

^‘Of course, no real person ever did look 
quite so fine as the man on the poster, but 
Antony looks almost as handsome,” she said. 

‘^Are you talking about that new boy that 
is staying at Flossie Barnet’s?” Arabella 
asked. 

^‘Yes, and his name is Antony Marx. I 
think Antony is a fine name, and I almost 
wish I’d waited to name one of my two dogs 
until now, and I’d have named him Antony,” 
Patricia said. 

Arabella made no reply to that, but after 
a second she said : 

‘‘That boy stares at me as if I was actually 
queer.” 

“Well,” said Patricia, “I sometimes.ffem& 
you’re queer, and sometimes I am sure of 
it.” 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


51 


However, if Arabella did not take kindly 
to the newcomer, her cousin, Leander Cor- 
reyville did, and one day when Antony de- 
clared himself eager to excel in arithmetic, 
and expressed the hope that he might at least 
do work that might compare well with his 
classmates when school should begin, Lean- 
der hastened to say that he would gladly help 
him with his problems at any time. Lean- 
der was glad to be helped. 

do better work in arithmetic than in 
any other of my studies, so if I help you with 
your arithmetic, perhaps you can help me 
with some other subject.” That was a kind 
way of offering to aid Antony, and Antony 
thanked him, and agreed to give him any aid 
of which he was capable. ‘‘I am an out- 
rageous speller,” confessed Leander. ‘‘I 
tell you, xintony, I spell words the worst way 
that they could be spelled, but I can do my 


52 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


problems in arithmetic correctly every 
time.’’ 

‘‘Then if you drill me in arithmetic and 
I drill you in spelling, V7e shall both stand a 
chance of becoming absolute wonders ! ” said 
Antony, laughing. 

“ ^Chance/ is just the word. We’ll both 
stand just about a chance,” said Leander, but 
each felt stronger because of the other’s 
proffered help, and each resolved to do his 
best. 

Patricia had agreed to meet Arabella at 
a place on the avenue that was nearly oppo- 
site Flossie’s home. There were two rea- 
sons for not going straight to the Correyville 
home to call for Arabella. 

One was that Aunt Matilda did not like 
Patricia, and did not wish Arabella to be 
with her. The other was that by waiting on 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


53 


the low wall nearly opposite the house where 
Antony was staying made it possible that she 
might see Antony, and that would be delight- 
ful. 

She hoped that Arabella would be as slow 
as usual, and keep her waiting there on the 
wall, and while she waited, Antony might 
come home from a walk, or be just starting 
out, and either way he, perhaps, would stop 
to chat. 

That would be delightful. 

Arabella was not only late, but very late, 
and just when Patricia had decided that 
Antony must have gone off for the day, he 
came up the Avenue, whistling. He nodded 
to Patricia, and was turning to enter the 
driveway when she called to him. 

She certainly saw that he did not intend 
to stop, but she was too bold to be easily of- 
fended. 


54 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


‘ ^ What ’s your hurry ? ’ ’ she said as he came 
toward her. 

She peeped out from bpneath the brim of 
her big hat in a wild attempt to be charming. 
Antony thought she looked silly. ‘‘Are you 
having a good time here at Merrivale?” she 
asked. 

Antony assured her that he was. 

“I wonder you like it here,’’ Patricia re- 
plied. “I don’t, but I’m used to living in 
N’ York and it’s so gay there that Merrivale 
makes me nearly wild, it’s so awfully dull 
here.” 

“Could you stay in New York if you 
chose?” Antony asked. 

“Well, I should say I could!” said Pa- 
tricia. ‘ ‘ My home is there. ’ ’ 

“Well, why don’t you stay there?” An- 
tony said, carelessly. 

“Oh, I’m staying here while I’m being 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


55 


trained for a great career,’’ Patricia said, 
with a toss of her silly head. ‘‘A very great 
career.” 

‘‘H’m,” said Antony, ‘‘I’ve often heard 
of people who followed some sort of careers 
in New York. Foam Ridge isn’t too far 
away for newspapers to reach there. I read 
last week of a singer who has a wonderful 
voice and is admired greatly, who had all 
her instruction and training in New York.” 

“Oh, merely a singer!” cried Patricia, 
with a wave of her hand, and a look in her 
eyes that gave the idea that a singer was to 
be pitied rather than admired. 

Antony did not ask what she intended to 
be. He though her so silly that he really 
did not care, and Patricia was just ready to 
tell him, whether he cared to hear, or not, 
when Arabella appeared, staring at them 
over her spectacles. Patricia had seen her 


56 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


coining, and had tried to tell Antony all that 
she wished to tell, before Arabella joined 
them. 

As usual, she had a bottle of pills in her 
hand, and before she spoke, she counted out 
four, and swallowed the big round things, 
one at a time. 

Patricia was giggling. 

The fourth one seemed harder to swallow 
than the others, and Antony watched her 
curiously, as she swallowed, and swallowed, 
and stretched her neck, until Antony won- 
dered if it worked like a telescope. 

‘ ‘ Her Aunt Matilda makes her take them, ’ ’ 
Patricia explained with a laugh. 

“What does she take them for?^’ Antony 
asked. 

“For her — ^for — oh, I don’t know,” Pa- 
tricia said. “You might ask her, although 
I’m not sure that she knows, either.” 


ANTONY ARRIVES 


57 


^‘Of course I know,’’ said Arabella. ‘‘The 
pink pills are for my skin, the green ones 
are for nerves, and the white ones are for 
my nerves and my disposition.” 

“My! Which do you take the most of?” 
Antony asked, but as Arabella did not reply, 
he turned toward the house. ‘ ‘ They are cer- 
tainly the funniest girls I ever saw,” he said. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 

T he day was hot and sultry. The awn- 
ings flapped lazily in the bit of air that 
fanned them, and those who came into the 
little square paused before the shop windows, 
not so much to admire the goods there dis- 
played, as to gain a few moments’ shelter 
from the sun. 

A chubby boy crouched in the gutter, at 
the far side of the square, and seemed to be 
searching for something. 

‘‘Wot yer hunting for, sonny?” asked a 
big boy who was passing. 

‘ ‘ Oh, sufifin, ’ ’ was the answer. He did not 
look up at his questioner. 


58 


THE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 59 


His huge straw hat hid his face and 
through a hole in the crown, a tuft of tawny 
hair waved. 

The big boy twitched the lock of hair, and 
fled when the small boy yelled. The small 
boy appeared to be playing with the pebbles, 
but often he peeped from under the brim of 
his big hat, and once he muttered : 

‘‘I wonder if the ’ll make me thtay here all 
day. Mandy knowth ith hot.” 

As if in answer to his whispered com- 
plaint, a scrawny girl peeped out from the 
doorway of one of the stores. 

‘‘That’s right. Chub. You stay right 
there till she comes out, ’n’ I’ll give ye a 
candy ball,” she said. 

“Give it to me now/* shouted Chub. 

“No, not till ye find out what it’s all 
’bout,” was the firm answer, and the girl 
disappeared inside the store, the small boy 


60 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DATS 


bending once more over the pebbles. 

Through a gaping hole in the hat-brim he 
peeped. There was no one in sight. The 
breeze was hot, but the great clump of lilac 
bushes seemed to like it, and nodded and 
dipped whenever it fanned them. 

A heavy vine overhung the doorway, and 
there was a border of flowering plants each 
side the rough path that led from the gate 
to the door, but neither the lilacs nor the vine 
were ever pruned, and the flowers were such 
^s come up of their own sweet will each sea- 
son. 

Madam Gazooks took no care of them, and 
garden plants and weeds were close neigh- 
bors. Indeed the big woman could not tell 
a geranium from a burdock, and cared no 
more for one than the other. 

‘‘Why don’t the come out?” whispered 
Chub. “Maybe Patrithia has gone to 


THE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 61 


bed/’ he added, if the hath, whatth the 
uthe of me thtaying here, an’ juth ’bout 
meltin’?” 

He tossed a pebble and caught it. 

‘‘She’th a funny girl, anyway,” he said. 
‘‘Goin’ to that houthe every day. You 
wouldn’t catch me going to thee that ol’ fat 
woman!” 

He was becoming more impatient. 

‘H’U not thtay here all day!” he mut- 
tered, but at that moment the door that he 
had been watching, opened. 

It was some distance from the spot where 
he was sitting, and Patricia, as she came out, 
was so excited that she did not notice Chub. 

‘‘Oh, yes ’ndeed!” she cried. “I just 
simply know that every word you say is true, 
and I’ll be here again to-morrow at the same 
time.” 

The big woman who had stood in the door- 


62 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


way, waddled down the three low steps, and 
along the walk. 

‘‘Jest one word more. Sissy,’’ she said, 
and Patricia turned. The big woman laid a 
pudgy hand upon Patricia’s shoulder. 

“I was jest goin’ ter say this. Don’t you 
let any one argify you outer the fact that 
you’ve got reel talent. There ain’t no ques- 
tion ’bout it. If they don’t think so, it’s jest 
that they ain’t able to ’predate you.” 

“Oh, you’re just, fine!” cried Patricia, 
“and I’ll be here again to-morrow, sure/^ 
then she added, “unless my aunt plans some- 
thing that keeps me home, but I guess she 
won ’t . She doesn ’t often. ’ ’ Patricia ’s eyes 
were bright, and her cheeks were burning, 
not with the sultry heat, but with delight at 
the flattering things that the big woman had 
said to her. 

It was not the first time that Patricia had 


“Jest one word more, Sissy.” — Page 62. 





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THE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 63 


been there. Indeed, she had spent many a 
dollar there, for Madam Gazooks charged a 
dollar for each call that her patrons made. 
She pretended to teach any number of ac- 
complishments. 

She claimed to be competent to train one’s 
voice for singing or for reading. Dramatic 
art, dancing, to make the most awkward per- 
son graceful, and above all else, to study each 
aspirant for fame, and advise her which pro- 
fession to choose. 

Her appearance was gross, and far from 
graceful, her voice was high-pitched, and 
anything but musical, and the few people 
who had called for advice had at once won- 
dered why she had not spent a little time in 
improving herself, and they had not called 
again. 

She had at once seen that Patricia would 
listen to any amount of flattery, and that she 


64 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


would believe anything that was told her. 

She also saw that Patricia had more money 
to spend than most children have, and she 
longed to have her call as often as possible. 
She was dishonest, and cared not the least 
how she obtained money. Her only thought 
was to get it. Patricia hurried along toward 
home, her mind filled with thoughts of what 
the woman had said. 

When she was out of sight, Mandy came 
out of the store, and grasped Chub by the 
hand. 

^‘Here’s your candy ball,” she said, and 
Chub snatched it and put it in his mouth. 

‘‘Now, tell me what Patricia and that 
Ma^m Gas Hooks was sayin’.” 

Chub tried but he had not quite under- 
stood what he had heard. “The big fat wo- 
man thaid Patrithia could do anything the 
wanted to, an’ Patrithia ith goin’ there ter- 


TEE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 65 


morrer. Thath’s all I know. Oh, yeth, 
the’th goin’ there at the thame time.” 

Wal, I guess I’ll be somewhere near there 
myself,” said Mandy, “fer land knows I’d 
like tu know if she could make me good- 
lookin’, and what it would cost. I guess it 
would likely cost me consid’able, fer it would 
be a big job.” 

^‘What would?” Chub asked, but Mandy 
didn’t care to tell. Ever since he could re- 
member, Mandy had kept a sharp watch over 
Chub, but one afternoon each week he 
roamed the town, free from her sharp eyes, 
and governing hand. On Saturdays Mandy 
stood behind the counter in the small bakery 
near her home, and helped serve customers, 
for which she received a pot of hot baked 
beans to take home, and a half-dollar for 
herself. As she walked along, dragging 
Chub by the hand, she was wondering how 


66 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


long a time would be required to make her 
lovely, and how many half-dollars would pay 
the bill. She wondered why Patricia went 
there often, or why, in fact, she went at all. 

’F I looked as well as Patricia does, I’d 
not give that fat woman a cent of my 
money,” she said, under her breath. 

Give who a thent of whatV^ Chub asked 
with his lisping tongue, but again Mandy 
chose not to answer. 

‘^Come along,” she said, ^4et’s hurry and 
get onto the part of the road where the trees 
make it shady.” 

‘^Ith’s only thady in spoths,” said Chub, 
but Mandy had fast hold of his hand, and 
his stubby little legs worked hard to keep up 
with Mandy ’s strides. 

It was remarkable that Patricia told no 
one of her visits to the big woman. Usually 
she told, not once, but many times, all about 


THE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 67 


anything that she did, but regarding her 
frequent calls at the house where Mme. Ga- 
zooks lived, she told never a word. 

“Don’t yer tell a word ’bout this,” the 
woman had said, so sternly that Patricia, 
bold as she was, had gasped. “Do yer 
hear ? ” said the woman, then as she saw that 
the little girl was startled, she added more 
kindly : 

“I want yer to keep still, so’s when yer 
ready ter make yer de-hoo, ye’ll ’stonish the 
natives!” 

“Yes’m,” said Patricia, “I mean ‘No’m,’ 
or else I mean, why I mean I won’t tell.” 

“Well, ye’d better not! ” said the woman, 
“fer I’m int ’rested in yer, an’ I can do won- 
ders for yer if — ^ye keep still, but if I hear of 
ye teUin’, then I’ll do some different than 
what I was a-goin’ ter.” 

Patricia promised again, and again, and 


68 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


the big woman seemed satisfied, but she 
watched Patricia until a bend of the road 
hid her from sight. 

^‘If she can keep her tongue still, I guess 
we’ll manage it all right,” she said as she 
went up the steps. 

Mandy and Chub lived very near the old 
house where Patricia lived with her aunt. 
The street, unattractive in itself, was not 
l^eautified by the swarm of dirty children 
who were always at play there, or by the 
slatternly women who often stood gossiping 
over their garden gates. 

At one time her parents had lived at Mer- 
rivale, but when they moved to New York, 
Patricia had begged to return and live with 
her aunt. 

Patricia’s greatest delight seemed to be 
in spending money. 

Love had no part in her nature, and in its 


THE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 69 


place were vanity, and greed. If she were 
at home her mother would know how, and 
for what, she spent the money for which she 
was forever coaxing, and that did not please 
Patricia. 

Now that she lived with her aunt she was 
always writing letters in which she asked for 
money for shoes, for a new hat, a coat or a 
dress, saying that she needed them. Some- 
times she bought Ihe article that she had 
mentioned, but quite as often she spent it 
foolishly, just to show the girls and boys that 
she knew, how freely she could spend. 

She seemed to have no conscience. Mrs. 
Levine was as vain as her little daughter, 
and Patricia knew just how to obtain money 
from her. If Mrs. Levine replied to a coax- 
ing letter from Patricia, and said that she 
could not send more money before another 
month, Patricia had only to say that she did 


70 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


not look as finely dressed as the other girls, 
and Mrs. Levine would send whatever Pa- 
tricia asked for, in the next mail. 

Mandy longed to tell Patricia’s aunt all 
about the big woman who received so many 
calls from Patricia, but ^he dared not do so. 
She intended calling there herself. She had 
saved four half-dollars, and she meant to call 
at the door, and ask Mme. Gazooks how much 
beauty could be purchased for two dollars. 
If the woman was so encouraging that it 
looked like a bargain, she meant to put the 
four half-dollars in her big, fat hand, and 
step inside. 

‘‘I’ll know whether I look two-dollars’- 
worth better than I do now,” Mandy said to 
herself, “and there’s one thing sure. I 
couldn’t look worse.” 

Now while Patricia had told no one about 
her calls at the house near the square, there 


TEE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 71 


were many who knew without being told. 

She went there so often that some one was 
bound to notice it, and the small boys who 
idled around the square had seen her there 
so often, that they made remarks about it. 
The sign had first attracted their attention, 
then they saw the big woman, and they won- 
dered why a little girl cared to go there, 
u There’s no girls in that house for her to 
play with,” said one, on a hot day when they 
had just seen Patricia go in. 

wonder why she goes there?” 

They were not there when she came out, 
but after that whenever they saw her com- 
ing, they would shout : 

‘‘Patricia! Patricia! Are yer goin’ to 
call on Madam Gas Hooks?” 

Patricia would look angry, and that de- 
lighted the small boys. 

A few days later they made a jingle that 


72 DOROTHY RED LETTER DAYS 


was certainly provoking, and in chorus they 
sang it in front of the house. 

Madam Gas Hooks, 

She sells good looks/’ 

This pleased them so that they sang it 
again and again, until the Madam came to 
the door, broom in hand, and drove them 
away, saying that she would surely spoil 
their ‘‘good looks” if she ever caught them. 
After that they dared not tease the big wo- 
man, and only teased Patricia when she was 
not near the square. 

There was one person to whom she told a 
wee bit, and that was Arabella. 

Arabella had heard that Patricia was of- 
ten there, and one day she questioned her. 

“Oh, I’ll tell you just one thing,” she said 
rather grandly. “It’s no use to tell you all 
about it, but I’ll tell you this. I’m studying 
for a career!*^ 


TEE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 73 

‘‘A what?’’ drawled Arabella. 

‘^A careerV^ Patricia repeated as loudly 
as if she thought Arabella deaf. 

“My Cousin Leander said a horse down in 
the square careered round when the cars 
scared him,” replied Arabella, “so I don’t 
know what you mean.” 

“I didn’t s’pose you would,” Patricia said, 
rudely, and she would not explain. 

It was not long before Patricia’s aunt be- 
gan to question her. 

“What’s this I hear ’bout you a-goin’ ter 
call at a house somewheres near the post- 
office, an’ goin’ so often that folks speak 
’bout it. Who is it ye go to see? ” 

“It’s a lady that has took such a fancy to 
me that she keeps inviting me in, and some- 
times if it’s in the forenoon she makes me 
stay to lunch.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll call with ye some day. 


74 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


I’d like ter see the pusson what can make ye 
do anything,” said her aunt, ^‘an’ if she’s 
got a recipe fer making ye mind, I’d like ter 
borry it, an’ see ’f I could make it work. 

^‘Here! Make that pup take that bone 
outdoors,” and Patricia, for once was quick 
to obey, for she was glad to avoid further 
questioning. 

They had been eating their lunch, and Pa- 
tricia had tossed a bone to the pup. He had 
promptly seized it with a growl, and held it 
down with a stubby paw while he proceeded 
to gnaw it. 

Patricia picked him up, his jaws firmly 
holding the bone that he had no idea of los- 
ing. She landed him in the back-yard, 
where Lionel, in sulky disgust, watched his 
efforts at obtaining what meat and gristle 
still clung to the bone. 


TEE BOUSE IN THE SQUARE 75 


Patricia was standing with her back to- 
ward the street, so that she did not see Jack 
Tiverton, who peeped over the fence, and 
nudged the elbow of Leander Correyville. 

They turned to watch her. 

^‘Wonder where she got those freak 
dogs?’’ Jack whispered. 

^^I’d like better still to know why she’s 
3oing so much telephoning,” said Leander. 

^‘Telephoning?” said Jack. “Who is 
she telephoning to?*’ 

“I don’t know,” Leander said, “but she 
uses the telephone wherever she goes. She 
came over to see Arabella this forenoon, and 
first thing she did was to rush to the tele- 
phone, and such a string of questions and 
answers I never heard. Eeginald Dean says 
she runs into the drug-stores and does the 
same thing, and she stays in the booth so 


76 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


long that folks that are waiting, get out of 
patience.” 

‘ ‘ She ’s always ‘ showing off, ’ but about this 
new notion, really I don’t see what fun there 
is in it,” Jack said. 

‘‘Well, I was out when she came over to 
our house, and Arabella tried to tell me what 
^Patricia had said at the telephone, but Ara- 
bella always gets things mixed, so when she 
said she couldn’t make sense out of what 
Patricia was saying I said I couldn’t either, 
from the way that she was repeating it. 
Arabella declared that she told it just as 
Patricia had said it. 

“The girls say she doesn’t do it unless 
there’s some one whom she knows near 
enough to notice what she is doing. 

“Mollie Merton said Patricia was walk- 
ing along the street ahead of her, and when 
she turned, she saw Mollie, and the first thing 


THE HOUSE IN THE SQUARE 77 


she said was, ‘ Hello, Mollie ! Oh, I must run 
in and telephone this very minute,’ and into 
a store she rushed.” 

‘‘Well, that certainly is a funny notion,” 
said J ack. 


CHAPTER V 


THE CIRCUS GHIL 

W ITH the beginning of school days 
Antony found himself in good com- 
l^any. The school at home, the Foam Ridge 
Academy, had been a good one, and to his 
great delight, he found that he stood as well 
in his class as any of the other pupils of his 
age. 

At recess, on the first day, the yard held 
three excited groups, each talking about dif- 
ferent things in which all were equally in- 
terested. A half-dozen boys and girls in a 
group nearest the schoolhouse were talking 
of the great circus posters, and wondering 
if the show were nearly as good as the boast- 
ful posters proclaimed. 


78 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


79 


‘‘If there is a girl who truly ties herself 
up in a knot like that picture of the India- 
rubber girl, I’d not like to see her,” said Dor- 
othy. 

“Why not?” Mollie Merton asked. 

“Because it’s awful to look at,” Dorothy 
said, ‘ ‘ and it would make me shiver. I don ’t 
believe I could watch her while she did it.” 

“I could,” cried Reginald, “but I think it 
would be even finer if she tied herself in ttvo 
knots.” 

“I wonder you don’t say three/^ said Jack 
Tiverton. You know there’s luck in odd 
numbers, Reginald.” 

“There may be luck,” said Reginald, “but 
there’s no sense in wishing she would tie her- 
self in three knots, because she wouldn’t be 
long enough to tie more than two.” 

“I like the picture that shows ‘Thirty 
milk-white steeds,’ all prancing, and holding 


80 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DATS 


their heads so proudly,” said Flossie, ‘‘but 
why does it say ‘steeds’? Is that just an- 
other name for horses. Jack?” 

“Sure thing,” Jack replied, “and on an- 
other line it calls them ‘palfries,’ meaning 
horses, again.” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter what they call 
them,” Flossie said, “they’re handsome, and 
I’d like to see them.” 

“And we’ll have a fine chance to,” said 
MoUie Merton, “for the}^ have their parade 
on Saturday morning and they’re coming 
right up the avenue past the Stone House.” 

“And I invite every one of you boys and 
girls to come over early and accept reserved 
seats on our stone wall,” said Dorothy, 
laughing. 

“Hurray for Dorothy Dainty and the invi- 
tation. I’ll be the first to arrive,” cried 
Jack. 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


81 


much,” said Antony, ‘‘for I’m 
nearer the Stone House than you are, and 
I’ll beat you by being there a good half-hour 
before you’re even in sight.” 

“Oh, ho! Hear him, everybody. Well, 
I’ll get there first if I have to sit up all night 
to do it.” 

Another group were excitedly talking of 
the bit of news that had appeared in the 
morning edition of the Merrivale Post, It 
had stated that a new teacher of music was 
coming to the Merrivale schools, and that 
special training would be given those pupils 
who were to take part in a musical play to be 
given at the holidays. 

A third group, made up of the larger boys 
were eagerly discussing the one thing that 
every one talked of — the disappearance of 
goods from the Merrivale stores. 

“The thieves, whoever they are, are get- 


82 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


ting bolder/’ said a tall boy who stood with 
his hands thrust deep in his pockets. 

‘‘They began with taking small things, and 
taking them once in a while. Now they’re 
grabbing everything that they can lay their 
hands on, and taking them all the time.” 

“Why don’t the police get them?” asked 
a small boy who stood near, and who had 
been listening to what the big boy had been 
saying. 

“The police say they’ve watched day and 
night,” the larger boy replied, “but they’ve 
not yet found any of the stolen goods, or 
caught any of the thieves. They say there 
must be a munber of them, because one man 
couldn’t begin to get away with the amount 
that disappears nearly every day.” 

A lad, much larger than the one who had 
first spoken, stood leaning against the fence, 
and be turned now, and looking toward an- 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


83 


other boy who was standing near him, whis- 
pered something in response to which the 
boy grinned, and nodded. 

The big boy moved nearer, and was about 
to confide something further, when the bell 
rang, and muttering: ‘‘Never mind now. 
I’ll tell you after school,” he filed in with 
the others of his class. 

Saturday morning dawned bright and 
sunny, and all the little neighbors who were 
anticipating the circus parade, were early 
on their way toward the Stone House. 

The gardener had spread some heavy car- 
riage robes along on the wall, and Mrs. 
Dainty had given him some small rugs to 
lay on top of the robes, so that the cliildren 
would have very comfortable seats. 

The procession was as late as circus pro- 
cessions usually are. 


84 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


you remember one time when Mother 
had the wall covered just like this, and we 
waited so long for them to appear that we 
really began to think they weren’t coming at 
all?” said Dorothy. 

‘‘Yes, and just as we were about ready to 
go up to the house, we heard the band, and 
there they were, just coming up the street,” 
Nancy said. 

“I hope they’ll come along pretty soon,” 
Flossie said, “because I ’most can’t wait 
much longer.” 

“I guess we’ll be ready to go to ied before 
they arrive this time,” grumbled Reginald’s 
big brother. “I brought Carlo along, and 
even he is beginning to think he has waited 
about as long as he cares to.” 

Little Fluff nestled closer in Dorothy’s 
arms, glancing often toward the big St. Ber- 
nard as he lay on the ground at his master’s 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


85 


feet. Carlo did not so mucli as look toward 
Fluff. Doubtless he thought so tiny a dog 
unworthy of notice. 

The boys and girls were just beginning 
to think that they could not sit on the wall 
much longer. 

‘‘I don’t believe the old procession is go- 
ing to ^processU^^ declared Jack. 

The big dog, Carlo, got up and just as he 
was enjoying a luxurious ‘‘stretch,” there 
came a fanfare of trumpets, the deep bass of 
a big drum, and there, winding around the 
bend of the road was the much-longed-for, 
parade, at which Carlo gazed for a moment, 
and then he threw up his head and howled. 

“Stop it!” cried Reginald. 

“You can’t stop him, once he gets started, 
so you might as well let him keep on. Maybe 
he thinks he’s helping with the music,” 

It was much like the average circus pax* 


86 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

ade, but the little audience upon the wall 
thought it fine, while Carlo continued to voice 
his disapproval. 

Little Fluff seemed greatly interested, 
glancing often at the howling giant St. Ber- 
nard, as if he thought such conduct out- 
rageous. 

A clown riding a small donkey looked a 
bit nervous when Carlo lunged toward him. 

The boys dragged him back. 

“I don’t like your dog!” shouted the 
clown. 

‘‘That’s lucky!” cried Reginald, “we 
wouldn’t sell him to you for any price.” 

“Wouldn’t take him as a gift,” the clown 
said, with a laugh. 

“Bet you wouldn’t!” yelled Jack, 
“we’re not making presents to-day.” 

There were camels, elephants, tiny Shet- 
land ponies, a great number of handsome 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


87 


horses, their riders clad in spangled velvet. 

Next came a single horse and rider, the 
horse, a dainty creature, prancing as if she 
knew her beauty, her saddle, and bridle, 
milk-white like herself. The girl rider, a 
bright, dark-eyed girl, peeped out from un- 
der her huge, white-plumed hat, at the row 
of eager children upon the wall. 

Dorothy, Nancy and Mollie had slipped 
from the wall, and were much nearer the 
edge of the sidewalk than Mrs. Dainty would 
have wished. The girl rode gracefiillv, her 
white boot peeping from beneath her fine 
silken skirts. 

‘MM like to ride like that,’’ said Dorothy, 
catching her breath. 

The girl leaned from the saddle, and quick 
as a flash, she whispered, “And I’d give all 
the world to be you.” 

She passed on, but not before Dorothy had 


88 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


heard her give a sigh, and long after the 
parade had passed, Dorothy wondered just 
why'the girl rider had spoken thus. 

The cages of wild animals had delighted 
the boys. 

They had thought it exciting to see the 
leopards in one cage, the tigers in another, 
pacing back and forth, their tails lashing, 
their eyes glaring, and in yet another cage, 
a tawny old lion with huge shaggy mane, ly- 
ing on the floor of his cage as if he were bored 
with the whole proceeding. There was a 
zebra with a scarlet bridle, led by a groom 
in the costume of a Turk. There were men 
and women wearing costumes of many na- 
tions, but Jack Tiverton declared that the 
faces of the greater number looked decidedly 
unlike the nation they were representing. 

‘‘Did you see the Indian chief with his 
war-bonnet of eagle feathers?” said Mollie. 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


89 


‘‘I was glad when he had passed us, for he 
looked awfully ugly with all that warpaint. ’’ 

‘‘He was no Indian/’ declared Jack, “no 
Indian at all!” 

“Why Jack Tiverton!” cried Mollie, “he 
certainly was an Indian.” 

“If that rigged-up Indian had spoken a 
word, you’d have heard a good Irish 
brogue, ’ ’ said J ack. ‘ ‘ And those bold Span- 
ish Cavaliers I’m pretty sure were Italians.” 

“Oh, Jack,” said Flossie, “don’t tell us 
any more things like that. We’d rather 
think they were just what their customers 
represented.” The long word was almost 
too much for little Flossie. 

“It’s just as Flossie says,” Nancy said. 
“We enjoyed looking at them and we’d 
rather think the Spaniards were Spaniards, 
and the Indians just regular Indians.” 

“Well, then I needn’t bother to tell you 


90 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


about that handsome girl that rode the white 
horse, and wore a white habit, and a big 
white plumed hat. T ou ’d not care about lis- 
tening to her story.’’ 

‘‘Oh, tell us. Jack,” cried Dorothy. 
“What do you know about her? The other 
riders were coarse-looking, but she was 
lovely.” 

“Yes, tell us. Jack. Tell us!” Nancy 
urged, and the others clamored quite as 
eagerly. 

J ack sat down on the wall, and the others 
crowded around him, none more eager than 
Dorothy whose blue eyes were wide with ex- 
citement, as she waited for Jack to begin. 

“Of course I don’t know if the story is 
true, but one of the men that travels with the 
circus told one of the policemen that she ran 
away from home, and joined the circus when 
she was a girl of about fifteen. She was a 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


91 


fanner’s pretty daughter, and she was quite 
tall, so when she told the manager that she 
was eighteen he believed her, and thought 
if she was eighteen she had a right to do as 
she chose. She didn’t enjoy it as well as 
she expected to. The work was hard, and 
she was homesick, but she hated to say so. 

^‘Well, one year, the circus went to a town 
next to the one where she had always lived, 
and she couldn’t keep away from the old 
home, she so longed to see her father and 
mother. 

^^Well, before she reached the house, she 
met an old neighbor, and the woman told 
Nina, that’s the girl’s name, that when she 
ran away, she really broke her mother’s 
heart, and the mother didn’t live long after 
the girl went. Then her father had no one 
left to work for, or to care for him, and he 
had never been very strong, so the neighbors 


92 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


weren’t much surprised when they found 
that he was gone. 

^‘He says Nina came back to the circus. 
There seemed nothing else to do, but she is 
different now. She doesn’t often smile, and 
she doesn’t talk much. 

‘‘She used to be full of fun, laughing and 
chatting all the time, but now she’s silent, 
and her eyes are sad. 

“Dorothy, I’ve made you cry,” said Jack, 
“and I surely didn’t mean to do that.” 

“No, not really crying,” Dorothy said, 
brushing away a tear, “but the story would 
nake any one feel sorry for the girl, although 
I don’t see how she could run away and leave 
them.” 

“That’s the part I can’t understand,” 
Nancy said, “for surely she knew that she 
was grieving them. How could she do it?” 


THE CIRCUS GIRL 


93 


‘‘Serves her right/’ said Reginald. 

Dorothy looked at him. 

“I know it does,” she said, “but I can’t 
help being sorry for her.” 

“I know just why she feels so sad,” little 
Flossie said. “It’s ’cause what she’s done, 
can’t ever be -fixed. If her father and 
mother were living, she could go back to 
them, but they’re gone, and she can’t ever 
fix it.” 

“That’s just it, Flossie,” Reginald said. 

The Little grouf) was sobered by the story, 
but of them all, Dorothy felt it most keenly. 
The lovely girl had bent low to speak to her, 
and Dorothy now knew just what her whis- 
pered words had meant. 

Nina had wished that she could once more 
be a little girl at home with her father and 
mother. 


94 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


The girl rider doubtless thought that, if 
she could be a little girl again, she would 
never grieve them. 

‘‘I guess every one of us ought to try not 
to hurt or grieve any one, and then we won’t 
have to feel sorry,” said Nancy, and Dor- 
othy’s arm around her tightened. 

“That’s just as true as true can be,” she 
said. 

Dorothy did not tell of the rider’s whis- 
pered words. She had a feeling that those 
words were said in confidence, and it did not 
seem quite right to repeat them. 

It had happened that at the moment that 
the girl had leaned from the saddle, Doro- 
thy’s pla}unates had been so busy looking at 
other figures, that they had not seen the lit- 
tle act. 

At lunch Dorothy and Nancy talked of the 
wonderful things that they had seen in the 


TEE CIRCUS GIRL 


95 


circus parade, and Nancy told the story of 
the lovely girl rider. 

Aunt Charlotte and Mrs. Dainty listened 
to their amusing comments regarding the 
animals, and their riders, hut both noticed 
that the two little girls were very quiet after 
Nancy had told of the runaway girl. 

‘^We saw the procession from the windows 
of the living-room, and being on the second 
floor, we had a fine view,” Mrs. Dainty said. 

The afternoon was well spent at Flossie’s 
house, where Nancy and Dorothy, Flossie 
and Mollie talked of little else but the pa- 
rade. 

Flossie was just sa3dng that she liked the 
ponies best, when little Elfin came out and 
joined them on the lawn. 

^‘Want to know which am’ils I liked 
best?” she asked, ‘^’cause anyway I’ll tell 
you. I liked the hump-backed horses best. ” 


96 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


^‘Oh, you funny baby!” cried Nancy. 
‘‘Those weren’t horses at all, dear, those 
were camels.” 

“Well, I don’t care, I liked them best,” 
Elfin said. 

It was at twilight that Dorothy told of 
the girl’s whispered words. Aunt Charlotte 
and Nancy were in the garden, and Dorothy 
sat on the broad upper step of the porch be- 
side her mother. 

“The boys say it serves her right that she 
is unhappy now,” Dorothy finished, “but I 
am sorry for her.” 

“That is right,” Mrs. Dainty said. “The 
girl is, of course, at fault but I believe any 
one with a kind heart would pity her.” 

“Mother,” Dorothy whispered, clinging 
closer, “I’ll never grieve you nor Father.” 

“I know it, darling,” Mrs. Dainty whis- 
pered softly. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE SECRET CAVE 

J ACK was tramping through the wood 
one afternoon, on his way to keep his 
appointment with Antony. 

They were to meet at the far edge of the 
strip of woodland, and then cross the brook 
on the tiny footbridge, when they would find 
themselves on the football field, ready to 
practice with the other fellows who had 
promised to be there. 

Antony had become a prime favorite, for 
he was frank and honest, an altogether 
manly boy. He and J ack were firm friends, 
and they shared all their pleasures. Now, as 
Antony waited for Jack at the edge of the 

97 


98 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


wood, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, 
he was thinking what a lucky fellow he was 
to have found so many good friends. Surely 
the boys and girls of the lovely town of Mer- 
rivale were rare specimens, and he won- 
dered if in any other town it would be pos- 
sible for him to have found so many de- 
lightful people. 

It never entered his mind that there was 
a reason for much of the kindness that had 
been shown him. 

So honest, and kindly had he been, so full 
of fun, so wholly good-tempered, that the 
boys and girls were eager to know him, and 
when they began to feel really acquainted 
with him, they found him to be even more 
agreeable than they had thought, and they 
valued his friendship. 

‘‘I’m a lucky fellow!” he said softly, “a 
very lucky fellow,” 


THE SECRET CAVE 


99 


Antony had gone over to the field a bit 
earlier, while J ack had finished a little task 
on which he had been helping his father, and 
then set out to keep his appointment with 
Antony and the other boys. 

How still it was in the heart of the woods ! 

His footsteps made little sound save when 
he stepped upon a dry twig that cracked be- 
neath his stout shoe. 

‘‘It is still on the beach, only the waves 
lapping on the sand to break the silence,’’ he 
said under his breath as if fearing that some 
one might hear, “and here in the woods 
it is still until a twig cracks, or a wee cat- 
bird cries, and the shore, and the woods 
are — ” he stopped. 

What had he heard ? 

Voices, surely, but where? 

Jack turned about, but no one was follow- 
ing him, no one was near. 


100 DOROTHY'S RED LETTER DAYS 


He knew that he was not mistaken. 
Voices he had heard, and there had been 
something in their tones that spoke of sly- 
ness, so that while he had not caught a single 
word, he knew that the owners of those voices 
were planning something, probably mischief 
of some sort. The little path on which he 
stood had been level thus far, but now it be- 
gan to rise, and Jack, stepping with care, 
avoiding any dry twigs, or loose stones that 
might cause him to take a hasty step, crept 
softly forward until he found himself on the 
top of a ledge, and there he paused, listening 
intently. 

For a time there was no sound of voices, 
and then, when he had about decided to go 
on, the murmur of low-voiced, cautious talk- 
ing made itself heard again. J ack dropped 
to the ground. 

He believed that somewhere down below 


THE SECRET CAVE 


101 


the ledge, mischief was being planned. 

He crawled to the edge of the ledge -and 
peered over. 

There was no one in sight, but the mur- 
mur of voices could now be plainly heard. 

Where were they ? 

Jack grasped the trunk of a shrub that 
overhung the ledge, and pulled himself far- 
ther forward, the foliage making a complete 
screen behind which he could listen. Ah, 
now he understood. 

Directly below where he lay was a natural 
cave whose opening was concealed by high 
bushes and imderbrush, and from that cave 
came the sounds that he had been hearing. 

Now, the voices sounded nearer. Were 
they coming out of the cave? The boy on 
the top of the ledge lay waiting, listening. 

After a few moments, he saw a hulking 
figure crawl from the cave on his hands and 


102 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


knees, then one by one they came forth, until 
five of them stood at the entrance. 

The big boy, who appeared to be the leader 
of the ill-looking gang, looked cautiously 
around, and then addressed his mates : 

tell you what ’tis, fellers, we’ve made a 
ev ’lastin’ big haul, an’ we must get even 
more. Each one of us must get hold of a 
good lot of stuff, stack it here in this cave, 
where no one would ever think of lookin’, 
an’ later when we think it’s safe to sell it, 
we’ll divide the money we git fer it. 

“Say! We’re some pirates, eh? An’ 
I’m yer chief, an’ as yer chief. I’ll perteck 
yer, whatever happens. 

“Now, help me fix up, an’ we’ll ^get hence,’ 
like the Pirate says in the book I was a-read- 
in’ ter yer.” 

They set to work^ and soon had kicked such 
a mass of twigs and dry leaves across the 



He crawled to the edge of the ledge and peered over. 

Fage lOl. 





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TEE SECRET CAVE 


103 


narrow entrance that one conld hardly be- 
lieve that any one had entered the little cav- 
ern, which was really a cleft between the 
two great masses of rock that, leaning to- 
gether at the top, formed a ledge whose crest 
was covered with thick, cushionlike moss. 

J ack lay very still until the rough-looking 
gang had slouched along the woodland path, 
on their way to the open fields that lay be- 
yond, and had disappeared behind a clump 
of trees that he remembered were near the 
border of the woods. Then he crawled back 
from the edge of the ledge and plunging into 
a thicket of underbrush, tore his way 
through it and came out on a roadway that 
he knew led up to the avenue, and the Stone 
House. 

He was a fearless boy, and his first thought 
had been to let the boastful leader of the 
‘‘Pirates^’ know that he had learned all 


104 BOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


about their secret cave, and that stolen goods 
were hidden there. Then, like a flash, he had 
realized that these boys would clear all of 
their loot from the cave so that by the time 
that he could summon help, and return to 
show the way to the cave, there would not be 
a scrap left to prove his story true. 

Before he reached the Stone House, he saw 
a man strolling toward him. 

‘^Well, well. Jack! Where have you 
been ? Your clothes look as if you had been 
roughly handled.’’ 

It was Uncle Harry, laughing as he spoke, 
but as he came nearer he noticed J ack’s face, 
and knew that no ordinary happening could 
make him look like that. 

‘‘Why, Jack, lad, what is it? he asked, 
laying a hand on his shoulder. 

As quickly as possible. Jack told him all 
that he had seen and heard. 


THE SECRET CAVE 


105 


‘^Come with me/’ Uncle Harry said; ^^we 
must waste no time.” 

Jack’s coat was torn, and his hair rumpled. 
His hands were scratched by briers, and he 
knew that his appearance could certainly be 
improved, but there was no time for ‘‘clean- 
ing up,” and without a word, he climbed into 
Uncle Harry’s car, and in almost less than 
no time, they were at the police station. Un- 
cle Harry pushed Jack before him as he en- 
tered. 

“Here is a young man who has solved the 
great mystery where goods have gone, when 
they have disappeared from our stores. 

“Jack, tell the Sergeant what you saw, 
what you heard, and all about it.” 

Briefly J ack told of strolling through the 
woods, of hearing voices, of listening in- 
tently until he could locate the sounds, and 
then of all that he had heard while he lay on 


106 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


top of the ledge, hidden by underbrush. 

‘^Well, young chap, you’ve done a good 
job,” said the big man, ‘‘and you’ll surely 
get the prize.” 

“Has a prize been offered? ” Jack asked, 
in an odd voice. 

“Why yes, lad. There are ten stores here 
that have been losing goods for some time, 
and the ten proprietors have each offered ten 
dollars reward to any one who could locate 
the goods and name the thieves.” 

“Do you know who they were?” Uncle 
Harry asked. 

“Why, yes,” Jack said. “The boy who 
called himself the ‘chief,’ was a fellow named 
Davitt, Mike Davitt, and with him were Jan 
Olsen, Ned Carlin, and a little fellow that 
the others called ‘Shorty,’ and another that 
the little chap called ‘Horny.’ ” 

“That’s the gang that we’ve been watch- 


THE SECRET CAVE 


107 


ing, ’ ’ said the big man, ‘ ‘ and I ’ll see that you 
get the prize.” 

“I don’t want a prize, sir,” Jack said, 
quietly. 

Don’t want the money, lad? For the 
land’s sake, why not? Can’t you think of 
any way to use it?” the astonished Sergeant 
asked. 

‘‘But I’ve no right to it,” objected Jack. 
“It isn’t as if I’d been out scouring the town 
to find those chaps. Just happened to find 
them. I didn’t go a step out of my way. 
I missed the ball game, that’s all.” 

“But you ran through a thicket at top 
speed to tell me about it,” said Uncle Harry, 
“and look at your suit. You’ve torn it to 
tatters.” 

Jack looked down at his torn coat and 
trousers, and then he laughed. 

“I’ll certainly need a new suit,” he said. 


108 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


‘‘but that won’t cost as much as the prize 
they offer.” 

“You’ll accept the prize, Jack,” Uncle 
Harry said firmly. 

Jack looked up at the strong, handsome 
face, and then after a moment he said : 

“Very well, sir. I suppose you know 
best, but it seems odd to take it.” 

“It’s ’a ’nough sight odder not ter take 
it,” said the Sergeant, and J ack made no re- 
ply. On the way home Uncle Harry 
watched the boy for a time, then he said : 

“Jack, was there any other reason than 
the one you gave, that made you unwilling 
to accept the prize?” 

Jack looked down for a second, then up 
into the kindly eyes, and answered frankly : 

“There was no other reason. I’d like the 
money. What boy wouldn’t like to have it ? 
But I felt that I hadn’t earned it.” 


THE SECRET CAVE 


109 


‘‘Jack, for weeks the police of the town 
have been diligently searching for the 
thieves, and their efforts have availed noth- 
ing. The storekeepers were tired of waiting, 
while their goods were constantly disappear- 
ing, and in desperation, offered the reward.’’ 

Jack drew a long breath. 

“Then the money is to be mine,” he said 
softly. “I’ll let Father keep it for me, un- 
til I decide what to spend it for. There’s 
several ways to use it,” he concluded with a 
laugh. 

“I am glad the reward came to you,” 
Uncle Harry said. 

“Why?” Jack questioned. 

“Because you’re the boy that will use it 
sensibly. You’ll take your time about de- 
ciding what to do with it, and so, when you 
spend it, you’ll get your money’s worth. 
The average boy would not wish any one to 


110 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


keep it for him. He could not keep it for 
himself, because it would burn his fingers 
until it was all spent, and then, as likely as 
not, he would not care for what he had pur- 
chased.’^ 

‘H’d not act like that with one dollar, 
much less with a hundred! With what 
money I have, I think twice before I spend 
it.” 

‘‘That’s right,” Uncle Harry said. 
“You’ll never be the sort of chap that Ben- 
jamin Franklin called ‘penny wise, and 
pound foolish.’ ” 

In saying that, he well described the sort 
of person who would be very careful as to 
how he spent one dollar, and the next day 
spend a hundred so foolishly that he really 
couldn’t tell where it had gone. 

“I’ll never do that,” Jack said quietly, and 
Uncle Harry, looking down at his dark, seri- 


THE SECRET CAVE 


111 


ous face, felt that the boy who spoke thus, 
would become a good, as well as a shrewd 
man. J ack hastened home, to tell the 
^^news” to his father. 

Later, Antony came up the avenue, and he 
and Uncle Harry talked of the prize and 
J ack. Flossie ran out to meet them. 

Hello! Hello!” she cried, and then she 
stopped directly in Antony’s path. 

‘‘Oh, why do you look so sober?” she 
asked. “They haven’t sent for you to come 
home, have they? Antony tell me, quick, 
do!” 

Elfin, who had followed Flossie, added a 
cry that was a command. 

“You s’a’n’t go Ant’ny, for I won’t let 
you!” 

Antony would not let them see the moist- 
ure in his eyes, so he hastily caught little 
Elfin, holding her fast, while he assured her 


112 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


that he was not going home for a long time. 

‘‘I know that’s true, ’cause Ant’ny said 
it,” she cried, clapping her hands, and laugh- 
ing with delight. 

‘^That’s a big compliment,” Antony said. 

‘^What’s a compliment Elfin asked. 

‘^Oh, I don’t know how to answer that,” 
Antony said, laughing as he set her free. 

^^Wee little daughter, your questions are 
often hard to answer,” Uncle Harry said, 
and Elfin laughed. 

As they were all smiling, the long word 
must have had a pleasant meaning, and she 
was content. 

In a few days the young rascals who had 
been stealing from the stores, were caught, 
and sent away to reform school. 

At first they denied all knowledge of the 
thefts, but after continued questioning they 
admitted their guilt. 


THE SECRET CAVE 


113 


It was learned that the boys came from 
families where crime was not unknown, and 
where it was thought ‘‘smart” rather than 
dishonest, to obtain money by any means, 
however doubtful. 

They would remain at reform school, 
where for a few years, they would be under 
teachers who would strive to make them hon- 
est and upright. 

Antony and Jack were of the same age, 
but Antony was so much taller, and so 
strongly built, that he looked to be at least 
two years older than J ack. They were firm 
friends, and they had already pledged that 
nothing should ever break that friendship. 


CHAPTER VII 

THE MUSICAL PLAY 

I F Antony was popular in the lively town, 
he was certainly more so when it became 
known that he, unaided, had discovered an 
incendiary, and marched him to the station. 

The police, with all their vigilance, had 
been unable to capture him. The boys 
frankly praised him, while the girls looked 
upon him as a hero, a defender of the town’s 
welfare. 

^‘I wish they wouldn’t make such a fuss 
about it!” declared Antony, one morning to 
Uncle Harry who had just come out of the 
house to join him. 

“Oh, let them have all the fun they can 

114 


THE MUSICAL PLAY 


115 


get out of it,” Uncle Harry said, laughing. 
‘‘They Ve enjoying it, so all you have to do is 
to let them.” 

It surely was not any single act of An- 
tony’s that made him a favorite with all. 
Eather, it was, that he could adapt himself to 
all. He was a good player on the ball team, 
yet he did not feel that he was. too large to 
be a comrade for little Elfin, who loved him 
dearly. 

He defended a little lad from a bigger 
boy, a bully, who was frightening one much 
smaller than himself. Antony severely pun- 
ished the big boy, took the smaller boy home, 
and then returned to the house where, on the 
porch, he seated himself, and whittled a boat 
for little Elfin, and then helped her float it 
on the water of the fountain basin. She 
could, of course, float it without aid, but An- 
tony knew that she had a habit of getting 


116 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

over into the basin, soaking her sleeves, and 
sometimes the whole front of her dress, when 
she felt it necessary to give the wee boat a 
shove. 

He sat close to the fountain basin, and 
kept one arm around the little girl. 

‘‘Ill help you sail the boat,’’ he said, “but 
I won’t let you get into the water.” 

“Won’t said Elfin. 

“Won’t let/^ Antony said. 

“Let only the boat get wet?” she asked 
laughing, and shaking her curly head. 

“Only the boat get wet,” he repeated. 

“All ’ight!” said Elfin, “Who-body wants 
get wet ? 

“Aobody wants get wet,” and she laughed 
when he held her fast. 

There were five people in Merrivale who 
had no love for Antony, and they were the 
five young thieves. 


THE MUSICAL PLAY 


117 


True, J ack had reported them to the po- 
lice, but the two boys were chums. Sent to 
reform school, they vowed vengeance on 
Antony and J ack as soon they were set free, 
and both boys laughed when they heard of 
the threat. 

They were to remain for five years at the 
school. Jack and Antony said they would 
not worly for five years ahead. 

Antony proved himself adaptable in more 
ways than one. 

The new musical instructor who had come 
to the Merrivale schools, had busied himself 
in ‘drying” the voices, and he soon found 
that there was good material for the musical 
play that he proposed giving at the holi- 
days. 

There were enough good voices among the 
girls for the principal parts, and a large 


118 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


number of fairly good voices to be used in 
chorus work. 

J ack and Eeginald were cast for fine parts, 
and several of their classmates for lesser 
parts, and there would also be a fine 
chorus. 

A fine, strong voice would be needed for 
a hunter, and Uncle Harry agreed to sing 
that part as it would require an adult voice 
for the music. 

‘‘You haven’t tried Antony’s voice yet,” 
J ack said, to which Antony hastily said : 

“Why, Jack, I’m no singer.” 

The director had been told that Antony 
was a visitor and supposed that he was to 
remain in town but a short time. 

“I’m to be here all the season, sir,” An- 
tony said, “but I’ve had no training for 
singing. I ’m no singer, as I said before. ’ ’ 

“I wish you could hear him when he’s out 


TEE MUSICAL PLAY 


119 


on the water in his boat, I’m sure you’d call 
his voice fine,” insisted J ack. 

Contrary to Antony’s ideas, the instruc- 
tor having tried his voice, pronounced it fine, 
and asked him to play the boldest solo part. 

‘‘I’ll do my best,” Antony said, quietly, 
“but, really, sir, I’ve never tried acting.” 

“Nevertheless, I believe. you. mil do well, 
under my training,” was the prompt re- 
sponse. 

The rehearsals soon began, for although it 
was early in the season, many rehearsals and 
much practising would be necessary if the 
play were to be creditably given. 

Antony was really cast for two parts, for 
in the first act he appeared as a sailor, a part, 
the costume and manner of which came quite 
naturally to him, but in the* remainder he 
was to impersonate an ogre, and he felt that 
he would need a deal of coaching for that. 


120 DOROTHY ^8 RED LETTER DAYS 


Lessons were not neglected, but spare time 
was devoted to making the little play a suc- 
cess. 

Leander Correyville had stoutly refused to 
take part in the play. 

‘‘The instructor said you had a good 
voice,’’ Arabella said, one afternoon. 

“Well, what if I have?” Leander said, “I 
know enough to know that I’m lean, and 
gawky, and I’m not going onto any stage to 
hear the audience laugh at me.” 

“You could sing in the chorus, and maybe 
no one would notice how gawky you are,” 
Arabella said. 

“Not notice!” cried Leander, “I’d be the 
first thing they’d see. No dramatics for me, 
please.” 

“WeU, I haven’t any voice,” said Ara- 
bella, “so no one of this family wiU be in 
it.” 


THE MUSICAL PLAY 


121 


‘‘Well, that’s a fine thing for the success of 
the play. If we two aren’t in it, we surely 
can’t spoil it, so we’ll enjoy ourselves in the 
audience, and have none of the work.” 

“Well, I know one thing,” said Arabella, 
“and that is that Patricia Levine won’t be 
in the play, because she isn’t a pupil at the 
school.” 

“It’s a fine thing she- isn’t,” said Leander, 
“for while she isn’t gawky, she’s precious 
silly, and that’s enough worse.” 

“Why, Leander, she thinks she can act,” 
said Arabella, “and she — ” 

“I know that she thinks that she can act, 
but what does that prove?” 

“I was trying to tell you that she says 
Madam Gazooks says she’s a wonder.” 

“Good gracious, Arabella!” cried Lean- 
der, peering at her over his spectacles, “do 
you believe all that Patricia tells you ? And 


122 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


do you think very well of the Madam?’’ 

don’t know what to think of her. I 
don’t even know her. ” 

‘‘Well, there’s one thing you do know, and 
that is that while she advertises to make any 
one beautiful, she certainly is far from beau- 
tiful herself,” Leander replied, in disgust. 

“Perhaps she hasn’t tried to make a 
beauty of herself,” Arabella said slowly, 
peeping over her own spectacles at her cou- 
sin. 

They were a funny sight as they stood 
glaring at each other over their goggles. 

“If she could make herself lovely, it would 
be the very best advertisement she could 
have,” Leander said, and Arabella, after a 
second, drawled: 

“I guess you’re right, Leander.” 

The next week something happened that 
surprised every one. 


THE MUSICAL PLAY 


123 


Patricia begged permission to return to 
school. Every one wondered why. She had 
been so long absent that it was impossible for 
her to be placed in the class of which she had 
been a member. The pupils of that class 
had advanced, so if she were to return, she 
would have to be content with joining the 
next grade below, and the pupils were much 
younger than herself. 

She gave the boys and girls who knew her 
another surprise. She joined the lower 
grade without showing a bit of displeasure, 
and seemed content, for a few days, and then 
she began to appear restless. 

‘‘What makes Patricia so fidgety?” 
whispered a small boy, to a girl in the next 
seat, to which the girl responded, ^‘I don’t 
know. Don ’t bother me. ’ ’ 

They were soon to know, however, for 
when the musical instructor arrived on 


124 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


Thursday, without asking permission to 
speak to him, she rushed from her seat, and 
snatching at his sleeve she cried : 

‘^Oh, professor, you really must try my 
voice, because I’ve been trained for singing 
in opera, and I can sing the leading part, 
and Madam Gazooks says my singing is dif- 
ferent from anything she has ever heard.” 

For a moment he stared at her in amaze- 
ment, so bold was she. 

^‘You wish to sing for me?” he asked. 
He was beginning to feel amused. 

‘‘Oh, yes, yes!” she cried. “I can’t wait 
till after school to sing for you.” 

“Very well, come and stand beside me,” 
he said, as he seated himself at the piano, 
and played a few chords, and in a kindly 
voice asked: “What will you sing?” 

“I’d like to sing an old song that I’ve been 
singing this week, I’ve heard it sung. I 


TEE MUSICAL PLAY 


125 


know it isn’t new, but it’s fashionable to sing 
old songs, so I’ll sing that.” 

The man smiled, and began to play the ac- 
companiment. 

Oh, many a time I am sad at heart, 

And I haven’t a word to say, 

And I keep from the lassies and lads apart 
In the meadows a-making hay.” 

So runs the first verse of the old song, but 
Patricia had never seen the song, and sang 
it as it had sounded to her, regardless of the 
fact that the words made no sense. 

Patricia threw back her head, and with 
comical attempts at trills and flourishes she 
sang: 

‘‘Oh many a line I am mad at heart. 

And I haven ’t a bird that ’s gay. 

And I heap the masses and pads, and start 
For the bellows awaking day.” 

The professor played the accompaniment 
and did his best not to show mirth, but his 


126 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


eyes were twinkling, and his cheeks flushed 
with his effort to control a wild desire to 
laugh. The pupils did not try, and Patricia 
turned a scornful face toward them, and 
sneered at their wild laughter. 

‘‘People who can’t do things always laugh 
at those who can,’’ she said under her 
breath. 

“I’ve nothing else that I’ve had time to 
practise, that I could sing for you,” she 
said. 

“I don’t think I could bear another solo 
like that,” thought the professor, but aloud 
he said : 

“That will do.” 

“Can I have a fine part in the play?” she 
asked, looking up at him. 

“The parts are already assigned,” he said, 
“and the rehearsals are in progress.” 

“Then why did you try my voice?” 


THE MUSICAL PLAY 


127 


snapped Patricia, her anger flashing from 
her small, bright black eyes. ‘^Well, thank 
goodness, I don’t have to go to school,” she 
said, adding as she looked up at the profes- 
sor’s face: 

‘‘I didn’t care about being in your old 
play, anyway. I only came to have my voice 
tried, and to take part in the thing, just to 
help it along. It was no treat for me to sing 
and act for nothing, for J’m a professional/^ 
The teacher had left the room while the 
professor was ^ drying” Patricia’s voice, and 
she was returning when she saw a child with 
several books under her arm, running at top 
speed along the hall toward the door. 

‘‘Wait until you are dismissed !” she called 
after the flying figure, and then, recognizing 
her, she called again : 

‘ ‘ Patricia ! Patricia Levine ! ’ ’ 

Patricia heard, but she chose not to reply. 


128 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


She had no idea of obeying. She had joined 
the school for but one reason — to be given 
a prominent part in the play. She did not 
know what the professor had thought of her 
voice, she did not dream that the words, as 
she had sung them, were idiotic. 

The one thing that she did know was that 
the cast for the play had been made up with- 
out her. 

Once out of sight of the school, she stopped 
running, and walked slowly toward home. 

As she reached the corner of the street, 
and turned toward the house, she saw 
^^Chub’’ sitting astride the gate, and swing- 
ing at a rate that threatened to wrench the 
gate from its hinges. 

‘‘Yer dogth wath dirty,’’ said Chub, ‘‘tho 
I put them to thoak in the rain-water barrel, 
an’ thoaked ’em good, too.” 

‘‘Oh, you horrid boy, they’re drowned! 


TEE MUSICAL PLAY 


129 


My Algernon and Lionel!” shrieked Patri- 
cia, racing toward the barrel. 

‘ ‘ They ain ’t drownded, thilly ! I thoaked 
’em, an’ pulled ’em out again, an’ they don’t 
look any cleaner. They’re juth ath dirty 
ath before.” 

‘‘You let my dogs alone, you naughty boy. 
You’ve no right to torment them.” 

“I didn’t torment ’em, I thoaked ’em, I 
tell you, an’ nexth time I’ll thoak ’em all 
night, an’ I’ll put thoap in the water.” 

“You’d better use the soap for yourself, 
you dirty little imp,” said Patricia. 

“No uthe for thoap,” sang Chub, as he 
swung out on the old gate, “I liketh to be 
dirty, an’ I been dirty tho long I’d feel queer 
to be clean. Dirt ith all right for boyth but 
not for dogth.” 

The two pups, wet and wriggling with a 
welcome for Patricia, raced out from the 


130 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


house, shaking drops from their flapping 
ears, while their lashing tails swished against 
her legs. 

Algernon danced wildly around her, while 
Lionel promptly ran between her feet, caus- 
ing her to pitch forward upon the rickety 
steps, her hands and knees stinging with the 
sharp fall. 

^‘Well, for massy sakes! Where did you 
come from?” cried her aunt, as she appeared 
in the doorway, just in time to see Patricia 
upon her knees on the lower step. 

^‘From school, of course!” Patricia said 
crossly. 

Ye Ve been home long ’nough to get them 
two pups drippin’ wet, an’ then set ’em loose 
in my kitchen, when I’d just got it cleaned 
up. Ef that’s your idea of fun, Patricia, I 
mus’ say our idees is some different.” 

‘‘I didn’t do that,” screamed Patricia. 


THE MUSICAL PLAY 


131 


‘‘Chub is bragging that he ‘thoaked’ them, 
and they just tripped me up. Ugh! I got 
splinters in my hands from that rough step. ’ ’ 
“Well, if ye didn’t wet them pups, ye 
didn't, that’s all,” her aunt rematked wisely, 
“but tell me, Patricia, what kind of a part 
hev they give ye, in the play? Well, ye 
don’t look exactly gay. Ain’t it a good 
part?” 

“I was too late in having my voice tried,” 
Patricia said, “and all the parts are given 
out. I don’t care. I don’t have to keep go- 
ing to rehearsals. ’ ’ 

“Well, I couldn’t imagine any kind of 
show ye wouldn’t be wild ter get inter if it 
give ye a chance ter ‘show off.’ ” 

“Well, I did think I’d like to, and I went 
and joined the school just purpose to get a 
part in the play, but it has just come to me 
that all the weeks they’re rehearsing for the 


132 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

play, I’d have to keep going to school, and 
I’d not like that. 

‘^I’ve brought my books home, and I’ll get 
my fun by going to the performance, when 
they give it, and seeing how horridly they all 
sing their parts.” 

There might he a few that could sing,” 
her aunt ventured, smiling. 

‘‘Well, I guess not!” cried Patricia, 
angrily. “As if I hadn’t heard every one 
of them boys and girls trying to sing, and a 
fine mess they’ll make of it. Well, I shall 
go just for the chance to poke fun at them, 
and laugh at them. My ! Won ’t I laugh ? ’ ’ 

“I don’t know much ’bout fine manners,” 
her aunt said, “but I shouldn’t say ’twould 
look very nice for you to go there just ter set 
an’ laugh. They might think ye dis’gree- 
able, Patricia.” 

“I don’t care the least teenty bit what 


TEE MUSICAL PLAY 


133 


they think,” Patricia declared, and she told 
the truth. 

If Patricia could have looked in at the re- 
hearsal, and seen the happy faces of the 
boys and girls who were to take part, she 
would have known that the laughter of one 
silly, jealous child could not mar their pleas- 
ure. 

When Dorothy and Nancy reached home, 
Dorothy put a red letter on another place on 
her calendar. 

The first rehearsal promised success for 
the little play. 


CHAPTEE VIII 


Patricia’s career 

A EABELLA sat on the low wall, waiting 
for Patricia. Arabella was never ex- 
cited over anything, hut as ten, fifteen, 
twenty minutes passed, she began to wonder 
if Patricia was ever to arrive. 

^^She told me to be prompt and I wonder 
if she thinks she’s prompt keeping me wait- 
ing here, ” grumbled Arabella. 

She began to kick the pebbles into little 
heaps, using her well-shod foot so roughly 
that Aunt Matilda would have been dis- 
tracted if she had been there to see. 

She had nearly decided to go home and 
leave Patricia, if she ever did arrive, to see 
how nice it was to wait for a friend who did 

134 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


135 


not keep an appointment. Then she changed 
her mind, and decided to walk a bit farther 
with the hope of meeting Patricia. 

She became more impatient with every 
step she took. 

‘‘I’ll turn ’round and go straight home!” 
she kept saying, while she continued to walk 
directly away from home, and in the direc- 
tion in which she might meet Patricia, if Pa- 
tricia were really coming. 

“Must be much as an hour I’ve waited for 
her now. Seems ’s if there was no sense in 
waiting any longer,” she declared, and 
stopped to look ahead, shading her eyes with 
her hand. 

For a few moments she stood thus, then, 
seeing no one approaching, she again sat 
down on the wall. 

A moment later she rose slowly, and re- 
sumed her walk. 


136 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


‘‘I’ll not wait mucli longer!” she said, yet 
she did not turn toward home. She dared 
not disappoint Patricia, for Patricia was 
the nearest like a chum that she had ever had. 
Arabella was not agreeable, and she was so 
slow, so sullen, that other little girls kept well 
away from her. 

Patricia, unpleasant in quite a different 
way, was as little liked as was Arabella. 

Patricia was full of silly vanity, and 
rarely talked of anything other than clothes 
that she possessed, or new dresses that she 
was about to buy. She constantly boasted 
of great things that she was to do, so the 
girls disliked her, and the boys laughed at 
her as if she were a joke. 

Thus the two whom no one lilted became 
friends, Patricia ruling, and Arabella usu- 
ally obeying. 

Arabella had now come to a place where 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


137 


the road curved and thick shrubbery for a 
short space, hid the low wall. 

She passed the clump of shrubs, and there 
on the wall sat Patricia. 

Arabella actually gasped. Patricia gig- 
gled. Patricia was wearing a dress of some 
gauzy material, very much bespangled. 

On her feet were satin slippers, their rib- 
bons tied around her ankles, and on her head 
the largest hat that Arabella had ever seen. 

Patricia could hardly see out from under 
its brim. 

‘‘Why, Patricia Levine!’’ cried Arabella, 
staring, yes, staring in amazement. 

Patricia sat very still, so that Arabella 
might fully realize how wonderful was her 
costume. 

“You don’t look very glad to see me,” 
Patricia cried. “You ought to be, and I be- 
gan to think I wouldn’t get here, but I’m 


138 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


here now, and I couldn’t help being late. 
Say! IVe loads to tell you. Guess what 
I’m going to do?” 

Arabella was still sullen. 

‘‘How could I guess that?” she said, in a 
surly voice. 

“Well, you couldn’t,” said Patricia, “so 
I’ll tell you. Now just hold your breath for 
fear you lose it, — I’m going to be a Movie 
Queen!'^ 

“Why, Patricia Levine! How silly. 
You couldn’t,” cried Arabella. 

“Oh, is that so?” said Patricia. 

“Well, that’s what you think, but that’s 
what Madam Gazooks has been training me 
for, and she says I’m just wonderful, and I 
guess she knows!” 

“My goodness! Why, how funny you 
look in that rig!” said Arabella. “Why, 
that’s a woman’s hat!” 



“ "Why, how funny you look in that rig ! ” said Arabella. 

Page 138. 




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PATRICIANS CAREER 


139 


‘ ‘ It not a woman ’s hat ! It was made for 
me, and I guess you never saw anything like 
it.’’ 

^‘I guess I never did,” Arabella said 
stoutly, ‘^and I know I wouldn’t want to.” 

‘‘You’re so old-fashioned you don’t ’pre- 
ciate it. You really don’t see its beauty. ” 

“Well, I’m sure I don’t. Take it off Pa- 
tricia before some one comes along and sees 
you.” 

“I’ll not take it off, but I must hurry back 
to Madam Gazook’s. I dressed there and 
came over here to let you see me. This cos- 
tume wasn’t meant for street wear.” 

“I should say not ! Oh, did you hear that 
whistle? That’s Jack Tiverton. You’d 
better hurry,” said Arabella. 

Patricia paused. Then both heard some 
one vault over the wall, and a moment after 
they saw Jack crossing the field, walking 


140 DOROTHY RED LETTER DAYS 


swiftly away from them, and both drew long 
breaths of relief. He would have laughed 
uproariously. 

‘‘Now, Patricia,’^ Arabella Said, “You are 
only a little girl, and those people that are 
truly stars are grown-up ladies. You’d 
ought to know that Patricia,” Arabella said. 

“Well, that makes no difference,” cried 
Patricia, “for Madam Gazooks says I’m to 
be a Movie Star right off, and on the bill- 
boards it’s going to say: 

“ ‘The Star wonder of the ages,’ and I 
guess when you see that, you’ll believe it !” 

“Maybe I will — ^when I do see it,” drawled 
Arabella. 

For days Patricia had carried her belong- 
ings, one piece at a time, to the house in the 
square. Madam Gazooks had an oily 
tongue, and she had flattered the silly child 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


141 


until she had gained complete control of her. 

She had learned that Patricia had a good 
deal of spending money, and she wanted to 
obtain more of it than she was already get- 
ting. 

She had also learned that Patricia was 
away from home, boarding with her aunt at 
Merrivale, and as she herself was rather in 
need of money, she decided that it would be 
a fine plan to have Patricia come to live with 
her, help her with the housework, pay her 
hoard, and pay even more money than she 
had been paying for her so-called “theatrical 
training.’’ 

The woman had no ability to train any one 
for anything. She was simply obtaining 
money, and was not at all particular as to 
how she obtained it. 

Patricia did not risk taking a parcel with 
her when she Avent out, lest her aunt’s sharp 


142 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


eyes might see it, and ask her questions. 

She surely thought of a queer way of car- 
rying her things from one house to the other, 
and boasted of her cleverness to Arabella. 

‘‘If my aunt knew what I’m planning to 
do, she’d stop it, but I don’t mean she shall 
know,” she said, “and this is how I manage 
it. New things that I buy, I take right over 
to Madam Gazooks. Things that I already 
have I just wear over there.” 

“What do you mean ?” Arabella asked. 

“Oh it’s easy enough,” Patricia said, with 
a toss of her head. 

“This morning when I went out I had one 
iress on over the other. I left one at Madam 
Gazooks, and wore the other home.” 

“But why don’t you tell 3 ^our aunt that 
you intend to go with Madam What’s-her- 
name?” questioned Arabella. 

“Well, what a question!” cried Patricia. 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


143 


“I’d think you’d know better than to ask 
that.” 

“But your aunt has been pretty good to 
you, hasn’t she?” Arabella said in a low 
voice. “She might feel bad if you went off 
and left her, just snea — ” 

“What’s that you started to say?” Pa- 
trica asked sharply. 

Arabella had meant to say “Just sneaking 
off,” but did not quite dare. To Patricia’s 
question she made no answer. 

“Arabella, you just tell me what you 
meant to say!” cried Patricia,. 

Arabella looked straight into her angry 
eyes, and shut her lips tighter. 

*^Won^t you answer?” said Patricia. 

Arabella shook her head. 

^ ‘ Dummy ! ’ ’ shrilled Patricia, “ I ’ll be glad 
when I’m off on my career, for I’m likely 
to meet some bright people, and oh, how they 


144 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


will enjoy me! Madam Gazooks says I’ll 
be the bright star of any company that I 
choose to join.” 

‘‘Well,” drawled Arabella, “I’U wish you 
good luck, but my cousin, Leander Correy- 
ville, said one time that it was hard to get 
into the ‘Movies.’ ” 

“It i5 for most people,” Patricia said, 
grandly, “but Madam says I’m a natural- 
bom genius, so I can do it easy ’nough.” 

“When do you expect to begin?” Arabella 
asked, to which Patricia replied : 

“Oh, Madam attends to that.” 

“Well, I don’t know if I’d care about be- 
ing in the movies,” drawled Arabella, “for 
my Aimt Matilda says those people work 
pretty hard, and beside she says she has her 
views ’bout movie folks.” 

“Oh, her views sneered Patricia, “I 
wonder you don’t get tired of hearing your 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


145 


Aunt Matilda’s views. I’d not listen to 
them.” 

‘‘You don’t listen to any one now but 
Madam Gas Hooks/^ said Arabella, “and 
I’m not so sure she is worth listening to.” 

“The idea!” cried Patricia, “I wonder if 
you know who she really is*? Let me tell 
you she’s a sister of a big man who owns a 
moving picture theater, and she’s a very 
great beauty-maker, and she gets just heaps 
of money making homely folks beautiful so 
I guess she knows something!” 

“Maybe she does,” Arabella said, doubt- 
fully, “but why don’t she make herself bet- 
ter-looking. Seems to me she would if she 
knew how.” 

“Oh, she says she’s so kind-hearted that 
she gives all her time to beautifying other 
folks, and just lets herself go,” Patricia ex- 
plained. 


146 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


‘‘Oh, is that it?” said Arabella, and Pa- 
tricia wondered why she said it in such a 
queer voice. 

“Well, I must run along,” Patricia said, 
after a moment, “for I’m sure dear Madam 
Gazooks must be looking for me.” 

She rose from the wall, took a few mincing 
steps, the only ones she could take on her 
siUy high heels, and Arabella stood watching 
her. 

Then in a shrill voice she cried out: “Oh, 
Patricia! Jump over the wall, and run 
around behind the bushes.” 

“Why, what’s the matter?” Patricia 
asked. 

“There’s ever so many boys coming, and 
they’ll shriek if they see you in that rig.” 

“Rig ! Do you call this el’gant costume a 
‘rig’?” 

“Well, it certainly isn’t a — well, a — a 


TATRICIA^S CAREER 


147 


street dress/’ faltered Arabella, ‘‘and, oh, 
look! The boys are running now. They’ll 
be here in a minute, Patricia.” 

“Well, let them come,” said Patricia, 
“who cares?” 

“My senses !” whispered Arabella, but Pa- 
tricia sat very still, her head held very high, 
and she certainly looked as if she were pos- 
ing for her photograph. 

As the boys came up, they stood still, star- 
ing at Patricia. 

Patricia did not stir. She wanted them 
to have plenty of time to admire her. 

Poor, silly little girl! She did not know 
how ridiculous a pose she had taken. 

Jack Tiverton moved a few steps nearer, 
then, with his hands on his knees, went 
nearer, as if to learn what sort of person was 
perched upon the wall. 

“Oh,” he said, as he straightened up. 


148 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


^‘Oh, so it is only Patricia. I thought it 
was one of those clothing-store dummies. 
Didn’t you, Eeginald?” 

‘‘No, I didn’t think that,” Reginald said 
slowly. “You see, I didn’t quite know what 
it was.” 

Patricia bounced from the low wall, and 
turned to walk down the avenue. 

“Of course you don’t know what you’re 
looking at. How could you know? Well, 
I’ll tell you. You’re looking at a girl who 
is soon to be a movie queen, and now I’ve 
told you that, I guess you feel a bit different. 
’Tisn’t every one who gets a chance to speak 
to a real Movie Star like what I’m going to 
be,” and having said that she minced along 
the road, on her way to Madam, who would 
let her in at a rear door. 

‘ ‘ Oh, ho ! That^s it, is it ? ” shouted J ack. 
“Send me some tickets for your first show.” 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


149 


^^Let us know when you’re getting ten 
thousand a week!” cried Eeginald. 

^‘Give me a seat in the front row, and I’ll 
throw you a bushel of roses!” called Jack, 
his hands cupping his mouth. 

^‘Send me a ticket, and I’ll chuck a whole 
rosebush over the footlights.” 

^‘They don’t have footlights for screen pic- 
tures, ninny!” screamed Patricia, and then 
she laughed. 

^‘Oh, what do I care for their jokes?” Pa- 
tricia said to herself. bushel of roses, 
indeed! Why, before they know it I’ll be 
riding in a great, big gilded limousine, all 
dressed in velvet and furs, and bowing this 
side and that to the folks that will crowd the 
streets, just to see me pass ! 

Then, I guess, those boys will think I am 
somebody. So will the girls, too,” she 
added, a second later. 


150 DOROTHY ^8 RED LETTER DAYS 


The big woman was not in sight when 
Patricia reached the rear of the house, but 
the door was ajar, and she entered, trying to 
make as little noise as possible. Madam had 
told Patricia not to tell any one about her 
plans, and Patricia knew that she had told 
quite a bit, and she also knew that if the 
woman did not wish her to talk of what she 
was intending to do, she surely would not 
approve of displaying her costume. 

don’t care,” Patricia whispered, 
was just determined to let Arabella see it, 
and suppose I did let her see it? I don’t 
believe she knows what it looked like. Oh, 
but Arabella is so slow!” 

Patricia had intended to climb the narrow 
stairway that led to the little room where her 
belongings were stored, remove the fancy 
costume, put on her own dress, and street 
shoes, and then go home, 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


151 


She had hung the spangled dress in the 
closet, removed her fancy slippers, and was 
slipping into her suit, when the sound of 
voices came up the stairway. 

Patricia was very curious, and she never 
hesitated about listening, so she went softly 
out to the head of the stairs, and the first 
words that she heard made her hold her 
breath. There was no doubt about that 
voice. It was Mandy’s voice speaking: 

‘‘Yes ma’m, thaPs my errand jest as I 
told it to ye! Patricia’s aunt saw me goin’ 
toward the Square, an’ she asked me to stop 
here an’ tell Patricia it’s time fer her ter 
come home.” 

“Well, ye ain’t got no chance ter tell her 
fer she ain’t ter home. I see her come in, 
but I had a errand ter do at one of the stores, 
an’ when I came back, she’d gone.” 

“All right,” said Mandy, “but while I’m 


152 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


here I’ll ask ye a question. How much 
would it cost ter make me good-lookin’? 
Not han’some,” she added hastily, ‘‘but jest 
sorter good-lookin’?” 

“’Twould be a dif’cult job,” the woman 
replied. ‘ ‘ How much you got ? ’ ’ 

“Two dollars!” said Mandy. 

“Good land!” cried the woman, “that 
wouldn’t be ’nough ter beautify the tip end 
of yer nose. Yer could give me the two dol- 
lars, and I could see how far ’twould go, if 
you want ter,” the Madam hastened to add. 

“Wal, I don^t want ter,” Mandy said, de- 
cidedly. 

“Ef two dollars would do so little that yer 
couldn’t see what it had done, I guess I’ll 
keep the two dollars right in my little 
purse,” and she marched out, whereat. 
Madam, angry that she had not been able to 
get hold of the money, closed the door after 


PATRICIANS CAREER 


153 


lier with a slam that shook the very walls. 

Madam at once sat down to think, a thing 
that she seldom did. 

She sat in her comfortable rocking-chair 
the greater part of the time, but she spent 
little of that time thinking. She considered 
it a waste of time to think, but just now she 
knew that she must think about leaving 
Merrivale, and she must surely set an early 
day for so doing. When she had first come 
to the town, curious people had noticed her 
sign, and paid good money to learn what the ^ 
madam’s business might be, and about how 
much beauty could be purchased for a few 
dollars, but now they had become more care- 
ful, and like Mandy, many who called asked 
numerous questions, and then went away, 
their money still in their pockets. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE sultan’s daughter 

/TADAM GAZOOKS has left town,” 

A ▼ A said Leander, as he dropped a 
parcel of schoolbooks on the table, and lit- 
tle old Aunt Matilda remarked that she was 
no loss to the town. 

‘‘But they say that she has taken Patricia 
with her,” said Leander, and he laughed as 
he saw the effect of his words. 

Arabella looked startled, while Aunt Ma- 
tilda surely appeared greatly relieved. 

“There’s not much cause for any excite- 
ment,” Leander said, “because Madam only 
left town two weeks ago, and Patricia is al- 
ready back in Merrivale.” 

“Why, Leander Correyville, why would 

154 


THE SULTAN'S DAUGHTER 155 


Patricia come back? She was wild to go,” 
Arabella said slowly. 

‘‘She certainly was wild when she went 
off with that woman. It seems we didn’t 
even know her name. Her sign read, 
‘Madam Gazooks,’ but Uncle Rob has just 
learned that her real name is ‘O’Flaherty.’ ” 

“How did Father find out?” Arabella 
asked, curiously. 

“Well, she had been planning to go for 
some weeTis, but had not said much about it 
to any one but Patricia, and she had told 
Patricia not to tell. She wanted Merrivale 
people to be sure to remember her, so she 
left the town owing money to all the store- 
keepers, and they’re keeping her in mind. 
They have hired your father to remind her 
that those bills will have to be paid.” 

“How did he know where she went?” Ara- 
bella asked. 


156 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DATS 


‘^He didn’t know, but he soon found out, 
and he also learned that she had taken 
Patricia with her. Madam Gazooks, I mean 
O’Flaherty, had made the little simpleton 
believe that she would, at once, become a 
great movie star, but when they found her, 
Miss Patricia was washing dishes in a dark, 
dingy old kitchen, while the ^ Madam’ was 
sitting in the front room reading a novel. 
Patricia was to do housework, and take les- 
sons of Madam for which she was paying a 
good price. Patricia was brought back to 
her aunt, and she was very willing to let it 
be known that she was disgusted with 
Madam. 

^‘Once out of Merrivale, Madam’s manner 
changed. 

‘^She did not intend to do the housework, 
and she drove Patricia to do it. 

Madam no longer flattered and praised 


THE SULTANAS DAUGHTER 157 


her. She was cross, and surly, and once, on 
the train when questioned as to the time re- 
quired to practise before making her first 
appearance in the movies, the woman turned 
around in her seat and faced Patricia. 

<< ‘For Mercy’s sake, can’t you think of 
anything to talk about but the stage? I’m 
tired, and don’t you let me hear another 
word about the movies till I speak of it my- 
self. You make me tired,’ having said 
which, she lay back in her seat, and promptly 
went to sleep. Patricia begun to wonder if 
any of the woman’s promises would be kept, 
and when she found that she was to be house- 
work girl, she was angry enough. 

“The woman did not care to have much 
housework done, but what little was done, 
would be done by Patricia.” 

“Well, Patricia isn’t wondering much 
about her now,” said Arabella. 


158 DOROTEY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


“I rather think Patricia knows all she 
cares to know about her by this time/’ Le- 
ander said. 

‘‘1 wondered why I hadn’t seen Patricia,” 
Arabella said. 

Aunt Matilda had listened to all that Le- 
ander had been telling, and now she spoke. 

‘‘You needn’t be in a hurry to hunt for 
Patricia Levine,” she said, “for I don’t 
think much of her. She’s too silly for any 
sensible girl to enjoy.” 

“Am I what you call sensible. Aunt Ma- 
tilda Arabella drawled. 

“Well, 5^es — at times,” was the curt re- 

ply- 

The story of Patricia’s runaway trip, with 
Madam Gazooks, and her speedy return went 
from one end of Merrivale to the other. 

At the Stone House, Dorothy when she 


THE SULTANAS DAUGHTER 159 


heard of Patricia’s safe return, painted an- 
other ‘Red Letter’ in her calendar. 

The weeks had flown. 

The holidays were now at hand, and with 
the holidays came the long-talked-of, long- 
rehearsed play, with its beautiful music, its 
costumes, scenery, and all that goes to make 
a play a success. 

Dorothy, because her high soprano voice 
best fitted the music for that part, was to ap- 
pear as Zuleika, the Sultan’s daughter. 

Nancy was to be Gulnare, a handsome 
dancing-girl, while Mollie, was Fatima, the 
friend and companion of the Sultan’s lovely 
daughter. Flossie was a little page who ran 
about, carrying a tray of “goodies.” 

Jack Tiverton was Haroun, trying to win 
the Sultan’s daughter. 


160 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


Eeginald was a bold young squire, pos- 
sessed of a flighty heart. 

There were other small parts, and a large 
chorus, and those who could not do much in 
the way of acting, were happy to be one of 
the chorus, and so be a part of the merry 
play. 

There had been a heavy snowstorm, on 
the day before the opening night, but when 
the longed-for evening came, it was clear, 
and cold, and the stars were bright overhead. 
Merrivale was all ajingle with the music of 
sleighbells, as the sleighs sped over the roads 
toward the little theater. 

A crowd waited at the door. 

Walls and hedges were piled with snow, 
and the moonlight lay upon the open flelds 
making them a dazzling white. 

Inside the theater the audience waited 
none too patiently for the curtain to go up. 


THE SULTANAS DAUGHTER 161 


At last the musicians appeared, and took 
their places. 

The overture was played with enthusiasm, 
the oriental music delighting every one. Up 
went the curtain. Then the music quick- 
ened, and grew faster, ever faster, until it 
had reached a presto movement, when it 
burst forth in a fanfare of trumpets, as four 
men carrying a palanquin crossed to the 
center of the stage, and paused, when Doro- 
thy, as the Sultan’s daughter, stepped out, 
and stepping forward to the footlights sang 
the opening solo. 

‘‘I am the Sultanas daughter, 

Zuleika is my name, 

Our palace grand and stately 
Has long been known to fame.’^ 

There were two verses, and Dorothy re- 
ceived a wonderful encore, and willingly 
sang them again. 


162 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


Following her Nancy, as Gnlnare, the 
beautiful slave girl, ran on from the wings, 
the bangles on her wrists and ankles tinkling 
with every step. 

The Sultan’s daughter commanded her to 
dance. 

‘‘Dance for me, oh lovely slave girl! 
Dance for me, Gulnare, and let it be a new 
dance, a lively, flitting dance that shall amuse 
me.” 

Nancy bowed low before the lovely little 
Sultan’s daughter, and then rising, she 
whirled upon her toes, her arms out- 
stretched. Followed leaping flgures, and 
dainty steps that were so rapid, and so dif- 
flcult that many in the audience leaned for- 
ward in their seats, breathless with wonder 
at her skill. 

Dorothy was as amazed as any who 
watched Nancy, for surely her Nancy was 


TEE SULTANAS DAUGHTER 163 


doing new steps, wonderful steps and figures 
that she had never done at any of the re- 
hearsals. Where had she learned them? 
When had she practiced them? 

The lovely figures that Nancy was doing 
she had learned during the time that Bon- 
fanti had been training her, and she deter- 
mined to use them when the Sultan’s daugh- 
ter commanded her to do a dance that was 
new. 

She enjoyed the look of surprise in Doro- 
thy’s eyes, and felt well repaid for the half- 
hours that she had stolen away to practise. 

She had told Aunt Charlotte how she was 
planning to surprise Dorothy and Aunt 
Charlotte had suggested a small room in one 
of the towers, as a good place to practice, 
because it was a room that was seldom used, 
and so she would hardly be interrupted. 

Nancy had interwoven these difficult steps, 


164 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


so that her solo dance was really new to her 
friends. 

Following Nancy’s dance, came a fine duet 
by the Sultan’s daughter, and Fatima, her 
chum. 

Mollie, as Fatima, had just the voice for 
the part and it’s alto tones blended well with 
Dorothy’s sweet soprano. 

Flossie, the little page, came running on 
with a tray of ‘‘goodies,” and just as the 
two girls were eating “Turkish sweets,” 
young Haroun strode in, followed by his 
retinue. 

The little Sultan’s daughter pretended 
fear, and clung to Fatima, but young Ha- 
roun soon calmed Fer fear, singing a song 
that tells the purpose of his presence in the 
Sultan’s gardens. 

^ ‘ I am Haroun, the bold young Haroun, 

The son of the Grand Vizier, 


TEE SULTANAS DAUGHTER 165 


And I Ve won the Sultan ’s promise 
That I might meet you here. 

You, here in your lovely garden, 

Zuleika, the beauty blest. 

And until I have won your heart, dear, 

My heart will never rest.’^ 

Zuleika looked up shyly at him, her hands 
tightly clasped. 

Haroun drew his scimitar from his belt 
as he sang the next verse. 

‘‘My scimitar shall defend you, 

My love shall you enfold, 

My fond heart is thine, Zuleika, 

Oh, tell me I’m not too bold.” 

Zuleika stepped toward him, singing: 

“Only a brave heart could win me, 

For a brave heart is such a boon, 

But you are a stranger to me. 

You are pleading too soon, too soon.” 

Haroun called his followers, and grasp- 
ing his scimitar he strode off, vowing to do 
great deeds that should prove his bravery. 


166 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER BAYS 


when he would return to boast his prowess 
to Zuleika and to learn if he had won her 
approval. 

Eeginald as the bold young squire, with 
the flighty heart, became greatly interested 
first in one little girl and then another, and 
they all laughed at him. 

The little operetta was bright and win- 
ning. The children played their parts well, 
and when, at the end, the bold young Haroun 
returned, and won Zuleika, every one was 
well pleased. 

Antony, first as a breezy sailor boy, and 
later as an ogre did full justice to each part. 
He was surely a rollicking sailor boy, and in 
the costume as an ogre he was so fierce that 
no one could believe that Antony, kind- 
hearted Antony, was really playing the part. 
He had surprised his friends with his ability 


THE SULTANAS DAUGHTER 167 


to act cleverly, but most of all had he sur- 
prised himself. 

It was his first appearance, and he surely 
had played his parts well. He had often 
seen other boys and girls doing clever work 
in many entertainments at Foam Ridge, but 
he always felt that they were very greatly 
gifted, and often he had wished that he had 
possessed a bit of talent, never dreaming 
that he had much more than a ‘‘spark’’ of 
dramatic ability. 

The little players were called before the 
curtain, and given great applause, then they 
vanished to change their oriental costumes 
for ordinary dress. 

The “grovm-ups” praised the efforts of 
the boys and girls, and many said that they 
had often been less cleverly entertained by 
companies of older actors. 


168 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


The musical director had coached the chil- 
dren carefully, and the children had acted 
with spirit, and real enthusiasm. The tune- 
ful little musical play had run smoothly ; not 
a slip of any sort had marred the effect. 

‘‘Nancy, you’ve always danced wonder- 
fully but you never did anything like your 
solo dance to-night,” Dorothy said, when 
they entered the house, and stood before the 
blazing logs In the great fireplace in the hall. 

“I never felt as I did to-night,” Nancy 
said. “I felt as if I danced on air! It 
seemed as if I danced on air, and while I 
danced I felt so light, so bright, so happy, 
just as if, — as if, — oh, it was a strange 
thought!” 

She paused, her eyes bright, and her 
cheeks burning. 

“What was the thought, Nancy? Tell me, 
dear,” Aunt Charlotte said, as she went 


THE SULTANAS DAUGHTER 169 

nearer the fireplace, and drew Nancy toward 
her. 

‘‘Oh, you know, you all know that my 
mother was a great dancer. Well, half-way 
through the dance I felt as if my mother 
were watching while I strove to do my best, 
and I felt that she approved because I was 
trying so hard to do it fine, fine, — ^finer than 
ever before.’’ 

She had been standing close in the clasp 
of Aunt Charlotte’s arms, her head turned 
so that she looked eagerly toward the faces 
of the others, who were earnestly listening 
to what she was saying. And now she 
stretched her hands toward them, as she 
looked from one face to another, her eyes 
pleading as she said : 

“I know you believe me, that what I’ve 
told you fiitted through my mind while I 
danced, but tell me, do you think my mother 


170 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


could have watched, could have been near 
me^’’ 

There was a second of silence, and then 
Mrs. Dainty spoke, her voice very soft and 
low. 

‘‘That is something that no one, dear, 
could answer, but if the thought that she 
watches over you can keep you doing your 
best in all that you do, and helps you always 
to be the good girl that you are, then let the 
sweet thought comfort you.” 

“But what made me feel like that"?” 
Nancy persisted. 

“I could not say, but it may be that God 
sent that thought to help you,” Mrs. Dainty 
said, her voice hardly above a whisper. 

“And that, too, is a lovely thought,” Aunt 
Charlotte said, and Dorothy, ran to Nancy, 
and threw her arms about her as she cried : 


“I’ll try to think that, too.” 


TEE SULTAN'S DAUGHTER 171 


That night Nancy dreamed of dancing on 
rosy clouds of mist, bright butterflies trying 
to tempt her to chase them. 

She seemed borne upon the breeze. 

Only a week’s vacation at the holidays 
was allowed, because the school had opened 
so late that the term had been a short one, 
and soon they were once more at their desks, 
and the weeks almost flying, as time always 
flies when one is busy. 

The fall weather had lasted nearly up to 
the little week’s vacation, and those who 
love coasting and sleighing did a deal of 
grumbling because of the mild weather. 

Romeo, the pony had taken them for long 
drives over the roads, but it had been the 
pretty phaeton that they had enjoyed, in- 
stead of the sleigh, but one morning the wind 
shifted to the north, and it whistled around 


172 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


the gables of the stone house, and set the 
fires roaring in the big fire-places. 

‘‘Isn’t that a funny-looking sky?” said 
Dorothy. “Just look, Nancy! See ’way 
out there where the trees are just rocking 
in the wind. Do you believe we’re to have a 
big snowstorm at last?” 

Nancy peered out at the sky, and then 
said, “I never can tell what kind of weather 
we’ll have. Let’s ask Aunt Charlotte.” 

But Aunt Charlotte, as they peeped in at 
the door, was sitting at her desk, writing a 
letter. 

“Let’s not bother her,” said Dorothy. 
“I’ll ask John. He knows a lot about the 
weather.” 

“He says he does,” Nancy said, laughing, 
as she followed Dorothy down the stairs. 

“Oh, but he nearly always guesses right,” 
said Dorothy, “and if it is a snowstorm com- 


THE SULTAN'S DAUGHTER 173 

ing, we’ll get a sleighride. John, oh, 
John!” she cried as she saw him going 
around the corner just as she opened the 
door. The old gardener touched his cap and 
hastened up the steps. 

‘‘Ah, now. Miss Dorothy, get in out’n the 
wind while I learn is it the house on fire, or 
has a new sthray kitten been taken in ter be 
fed on roast turkey an’ crame.” 

“It isn’t either of those things,” Dorothy 
said, “and besides, that last cat I found, 
caught her first mouse this morning, so she’s 
smart if she isn’t a beautiful cat, and the 
cook says she’s glad I found her.” 

“Arrah! An’ we plase the cook we’re 
lucky. Oi dis-plased her yisterday, an’ not 
a piece av mince-poy did Oi git wid me lunch, 
niver a bit the soize av a postage-stomp,” 
John said, with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Oh, John! That was too bad. Well, 


174 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


I’ll tell her to give you two big pieces to-day 
to make up, and she will, J ohn, if I tell her,” 
Dorothy said, her blue eyes earnest as they 
looked out from beneath the bright curling 
hair. 

“Ah, thot she will, ye little fairy!” cried 
John. “Sure if ye tould her ter walk on the 
ceiling loike a floy, she’d be afther thryin’, 
though it wad be some job, an’ her weighin’ 
a little short av a ton.” 

“Now, John, you mustn’t make fun of 
Mary. Now tell me, does that funny sky 
mean a snowstorm is coming*?” 

“Sure it does,” John replied, “an’ put out 
yer hand, an’ aven now, ye will catch a wee 
flake or two.” 


CHAPTER X 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 

A ll day the snow fell, and all night the 
wind blew the swirling flakes so that 
when morning came the drifts were in most 
inconvenient places. 

The marble flgure of Diana wore a tall 
helmet of snow, while Venus, who stood near 
the fountain, was wearing a thick white 
mantle on her lovely shoulders. 

The fountain held its share of snow and 
Dorothy said it looked like a big dish of ice- 
cream, about as much as one would think of 
offering to a giant. 

How they laughed when they heard the 
whistle blowing to announce that there would 
be no school. 


175 


176 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


The signal seemed absurd, in view of the 
fact that no one coiild possibly reach the 
schoolhouse. 

The high wall around the gardens at the 
Stone House was completely hidden, and a 
monster drift covered the lower portion of 
the stable doors, so that the grooms were 
obliged to do a good bit of shoveling before 
they could get in to care for the horses. 

Already gangs of men with snow-plows 
were at work upon the roads and avenues, 
but it would be days before traveling on 
foot, or by vehicles of any sort would be pos- 
sible. 

^‘The young folks has been frettin’ fer the 
lack av snow,’’ John said, leaning on the 
handle of his shovel, to rest and regain his 
breath, ‘‘but they sure hov enough av it now, 
an’ by the look o’ thot sky, I think there’s 
more a-comin’.’^ 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 


177 


^‘Oh, have a heart !’’ cried the groom, ‘^and 
wait until we Ve finished shoveling this load, 
before you predict another.” John re- 
moved his cap, scratched his head as he 
stared up at the sky. 

^‘Well, lad, Oi’d loike ter plase ye, but it’s 
truthful Oi am, an’ Oi believe we’ll hov more 
snow then we’ve hod yet, an’ I think we’ll 
see it cornin’ afore the day’s out.” 

“I say John! Don’t tell me that again 
until we’ve got this bit of shoveling done.” 

^‘The new snowstorm will be here afore 
we git cleared up,” John persisted, and sure 
enough, before they had cleared the drive- 
way, light, feathery flakes were swirling 
through the air. 

Antony Marx declared that he had never 
had so much fun. It was all so different 
from the winters at the shore. 

He had seen the flakes falling into the sea, 


178 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


the vessels with their rigging covered with 
ice and snow, and the snow, like a carpet 
upon the shore, but here at Merrivale, there 
were so many objects for it to cling to, that 
the snowstorm took on a new beauty for him. 
It looked like a fairy village. 

Let’s go up to the Stone House, and help 
get the inmates out from seclusion,” he said 
to Jack, who had waded over to see him. 

‘‘All right,” agreed Jack, and armed with 
big snow-shovels, they set out. 

The center of the town was cleared enough, 
so that on this, the day after the second 
storm, it was possible to get about on the 
main avenues. The side streets, and those 
on the outskirts of the town were still 
blocked. 

The two boys found it harder traveling 
than they had dreamed. The plows had 




BY TEE FOUNTAIN 


179 - 


reached the Barnet house, but had not nearly 
reached the Stone House. 

As the boys neared the gateway they saw 
John and the grooms at work in the drive- 
way, and shouted to them. 

‘‘Hello! Say! We’ll dig on the outside 
while you dig on the inside, and see how soon 
we’ll meet.” 

“It’s glad we’ll be av yer help, lads. I 
was jist wondherin’ ef we’d be able ter open 
the great gates before the Fourt’ av July.” 

How they laughed when they met, exactly 
in the center of the gateway ! There was a 
huge drift over by the sun-dial, and an open 
place in front of the drift, from which the 
gale had blown nearly all of the snow. 

“I say, Antony!” cried Jack, “Let’s hol- 
low that big pile of snow, so that it will make 
a fine snow house, and then call the girls out 
to see it.” 


180 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


said Antony, and they worked 

with a will. 

It would have taken a long time, and a 
lot of hard work to make a pile of snow as 
large as that, but it was an easy task to 
hollow out the pile that the wind had heaped 
there. 

When it was ready for inspection, they 
looked toward the house, and there, at an 
upper window were Dorothy and Nancy al- 
ready viewing their work. The boys beck- 
oned, and the two pretty heads nodded. 

‘‘WeVe just been building a new house, 
ladies, and we’d like to show it to you,” Jack 
said, when the two girls in heavy coats and 
tarns appeared coming along the path that 
had just been cleared. 

It’s a fine-looking house,” said Dorothy. 
^ ‘ What is its price ‘F ’ ’ 

‘‘Twelve thousand dollars if you buy it, or 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 


181 


a thousand a month if yOu hire it,” Antony 
said, trying to look very business-like, while 
almost laughing. 

‘‘Isn’t that a big price?’’ Dorothy ques- 
tioned. “I see there’s only one room.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, that ’s new style, ’ ’ said J ack. “You 
all sleep at a hotel at night, and come back 
to your house to eat, or dance.” 

“Is it a warm house?” Dorothy asked, 
laughing because she thought the boys could 
find no ready answer to that. 

“If you and Nancy hire it, Nancy will 
keep her arms around you so you are sure 
to be warm, and Nancy is so fond of you 
that she won’t realize that she is cold,” Jack 
replied, to which Antony added : 

“And long before summer time, the whole 
roof will be melted off, and then the sun will 
keep you warm.” 

“You are such smart agents that I think 


182 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


I’ll hire your house, but I didn’t bring my 
money, so I’d have to run up to the house 
to get it,” said Dorothy. 

^‘Oh, we’d trust you,” said Jack, grandly, 
‘^so we’ll say that the house is yours to- 
day.” 

“We ought to give a lunch to celebrate the 
first day in our fine new house,” Dorothy 
said, “but I think our goodies would freeze 
before we could eat them.” 

Just at that moment the groom came hur- 
rying along the path. 

“Miss Dorothy, I’m to tell you that lunch 
is served up at the house, and Mrs. Dainty 
wishes the lads to stay and have lunch with 
you. She says all that hard work must have 
made them hungry. She says not to mind 
about being dressed for lunch, but to come 
right up, just as you are.” 

“I was wondering why I was so hungry. 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 


183 


I’d no idea it was really one o’clock,” Jack 
said. 

The next day school opened once more, 
and every one was present, with two extra, 
the extra pupils being Arabella Correyville, 
and Tess Haughton, who had been away for 
some months. They were all glad to wel- 
come Tess, for with all her faults, she was 
full of life, truly a merry playmate. Ara- 
bella was as blunt as usual. Strolling up to 
the teacher’s desk, just before school opened, 
she said : 

‘‘Are you Miss Merling?” 

“That is my name.” 

“Well, my Aunt Matilda sent me. She 
says she don’t think much of their taste in 
choosing teachers, but this is the only school 
n this district, so she’ll have to let me come.” 

“You doubtless could go away to private 
school,” the amused teacher said. 


184 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


‘^That’s what I wanted to do, but she 
wouldn’t let me, so here I am,” drawled Ara- 
bella. 

‘‘And here you are!” thought the new 
teacher, who wondered if she would be try- 
ing. 

Tess and Arabella had a disagreement the 
first day, and declared that they would not 
speak to each other. Miss Merling at first 
decided to check them, and then it seemed 
best to let them tire of sulking, and make up 
when they chose. 

She proved to be a fine instructor, and the 
pupils became very fond of her, for while 
order and discipline were insisted upon, she 
controlled them so gently, yet so firmly, that 
even the most wilful pupil could not com- 
plain. 


The weeks had fiown, well filled with study 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 


185 


that was made interesting. Miss Merling 
knew how to make their work pleasing, and 
they had striven to excel. 

Even the lazy ones had done more work 
under her care than they had ever been 
known to do before. 

It seemed impossible that the spring vaca- 
tion was near at hand, yet it was true. 

There would be two whole weeks in which 
they could play ! 

‘‘I do hope we’ll have sunny days, I’d like 
every one of the days bright and warm, and, 
oh, so gay!” Dorothy said, ‘^and we’ll make 
them gay.” 

‘‘We will, we surely will!” agreed Nancy, 
slipping her arm around Dorothy as they 
walked along the avenue toward home on 
Friday after school. 

Sunny? There never was a fairer day 
than Monday, the first day of the spring va- 


186 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


3ation, and Dorothy had thrown herself upon 
the grass, was calling Fluff, but Fluff was 
too busy to listen. 

He was barking at the fountain, and 
greatly disgusted because it would not stop 
playing. 

He would bounce toward it barking for it 
to stop, and then, retreat, barking louder 
because the spray had touched his nose. 

His nose, indeed ! And whose nose was as 
important as his ? He really could not un- 
derstand why the saucy dancing fountain 
paid no attention to the racket that he was 
making. 

‘‘Come here. Fluff, or must I come and get 
you?’^ cried Dorothy. As if he understood, 
he came trotting toward her, where she lay, 
her arms resting upon a book that lay open 
before her. 

“Now, Fluff, listen to me,’’ she said. 



“You can’t stop that fountain if you bark all day.” 

Paqe 187. 





BY THE FOUNTAIN 


187 


‘‘You can’t stop that fountain if you bark 
all day.” 

“Wow!” remarked Fluff, bouncing as if 
to give added force to what he had said. 

“Oh, you funny little fellow! Do you 
mean to say that you think you can stop it^?” 
Dorothy asked with a laugh, “because if you 
think that, you’re mistaken, that’s all.” 

She held up a forefinger, and the little dog 
looked at it as if he wondered what Doro- 
thy’s finger had to do with his noisy barking. 

“Now Fluff, I’m going to tell you some- 
thing, and you must be very polite and 
listen,” Dorothy said. 

The little dog tipped his head to one side, 
and pricked up one ear. 

“Oh, Fluff, dear, you must have both ears 
up, or else you’re only half listening. ” 

Up went two silky ears. 

“Oh, you darling Fluff!” cried Dorothy 


188 DOROTHY’S RED LETTER DATS 


drawing him to her, and holding him close. 

He was a great pet, so he did not try to 
get free, but, instead snuggled closer. 

do believe you know what I said to 
you,’’ she said laying her cheek against his 
glossy head. Nancy ran toward them, 
around a winding path. 

‘^He does,” she cried, ^Hor only a few min- 
utes ago, I was dancing a few pretty steps 
of the dance that I did in the musical play, 
and he came running toward me. 

‘‘‘Up! Up!’ I said, just as we say it 
when we want him to sit up, and he got right 
up on his hind legs. 

“ ‘Now, come on!’ I said, and he did truly 
take a few little -short steps, then down on 
the grass again. Every time I called ‘Up! 
Up!’ he got up, and did two or three jerky 
little steps.” 

^‘Try him now, Nancy!” cried Dorothy, 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 


189 


‘Hhen we’ll know if he did it just on pur- 
pose, or if he just happened to.” 

Nancy tried, but Fluff refused to ‘‘show 
off.” 

Instead, he stood watching her as she 
danced, and called him, his pink tongue 
hanging out, and his round eyes twinkling, 
just as if he knew very well what was ex-- 
pected of him. But didn’t intend to do it. 

Not once did he try to do the trick while 
she repeatedly cried, “Up! Up, Fluff!” 

“Well, you little tease, you needn’t do it !” 
she cried, at last out of patience, when as 
she danced away, he suddenly rose on his 
little hind legs, and took a few little trotting 
steps, looking for all the world as if he were 
trying to dance. 

“Oh, you cunning thing!” cried Dorothy, 
petting and praising him, at which, as if he 
knew that he had really done something 


190 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


smart, he leaped from her arms, and again 
tripped a few steps, at which he received 
more petting, much to his delight. 

‘‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” Nancy said. 
“I’ll give him a lesson every day, and you’ll 
be with me, and every time he does it, you 
must hug him and tell him how fine he did 
his steps, and maybe he’ll do it so well, we 
can let him take part in an entertainment 
some time.” 

“Wouldn’t it be fun if you could do a 
lovely dance, and he could run on when your 
dance was nearly finished, and trot after you 
just as he did it out here in the grass?” 
Dorothy asked eagerly. 

Nancy laughed. 

“If he would surely do it, it would be fine, 
but he might take a notion to race after me, 
just barking,” she said. 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 


191 


‘^Oh, yes,” agreed Dorothy, ^‘and he might 
do it wonderfully!^^ 

‘‘Well, Fluff, we’ll try you,” said Nancy. 

“We know he couldn’t learn any real 
steps,” Nancy added, “but he’d look dear if 
he only trotted along on his hind legs. A 
little dog looks cunning doing anything.” 

“Fluff does,” agreed Dorothy, “and he 
looks so straight in my eyes when I’m talk- 
ing to him, that I wonder how much he really 
understands.” 

“He understands more thin ye think. Miss 
Dorothy. Oh, but he’s a woise wan, thot he 
is,” said John, who had came along just in 
time to hear what Dorothy had said. 
“Didn’t O.i foind him shtandin’ atop av a 
wee pile o’ dirt an sich, thot Oi hod shcraped 
together, an’ sez Oi, ‘Phwat hov ye there, me 
foine little fellow, that ye hov ter shtand 


192 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


guard over. Phwat is ut, now. Shpake 
outl’ an’ wid that he barks quite imperdent 
loike. 

‘An’ will yez show me?’ sez Oi, an’ thin 
wot does he do but make the dirt fly siven 
ways av a Sunday, an’ there in plain soight 
was a bone he’d hid. 

“ ‘Sure, thot’s a foine thing ter be put in 
the middle av the walk,’ sez Oi, an’ if ye’ll 
belave me, the wee shcamp looked at ut, an’ 
thin he picks it up, an put ut under a rose- 
bush, an’ comes runnin’ back ter me, a-look- 
in’ me in the face as if he wanted ter ax me, 
did it look any bether there ? Oh, lave him 
alone fer under sthandin’ wot ye say! Oi’m 
not sure he don ’t know what ye think ! Sure 
he’s a wee, woise crathure.” The old 
gardener walked across the lawn, shaking his 
head, saying: 

“ He ’s a woise wan, thot he is. ’ ’ 


BY THE FOUNTAIN 


193 


That afternoon Jack Tiverton was trying 
to show Reginald how a gymnast that he 
had seen the night before, had walked upon 
his hands. It surely had looked easy. Reg- 
inald, leaning against the stone wall near the 
great gates, was just urging Jack to try 
again, when he saw Dorothy and Nancy look- 
ing over the wall, also waiting to see the trick 
done. 

couldn’t expect to do it in the fine style 
that he did it, but it’s funny I can’t do it at 
all!” Jack said, in disgust. ‘‘You see a 
thing like that done so easy that, for a mo- 
ment, it seems as if you could jump down 
there, and do it just as he did it. 

“How can those fellows do such ‘stunts,’ 
and do them with such ease ?” 

“You might as well ask how Nancy can 
dance with such ease?” said Reginald. “I 
tried whirling on my toes as she does, and 


194 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


fell over first thing, getting up as quick as 
I could, and looking ’round to learn if any 
one had seen me.” 

^‘Well, here goes!” cried Jack, and to his 
great delight, he walked a few steps on his 
hands before losing his balance. 

‘‘You are going to realize, after this, 
Jack, that the knowledge that permits us to 
do big things of any sort, is earned by long, 
and earnest effort. By being determined to 
succeed, no matter how hard we must work 
to win that success.” It was Uncle Harry 
who had spoken. 

He had watched Jack’s effort at a distance 
and then quietly walked over to join the lit- 
tle group. 

“I know it,” said Jack, “but tell us, — did 
you study and practise long before you could 
sing, as you sing now?” 

“Surely I did,” Uncle Harry replied. 


BY TEE FOUNTAIN 


195 


Fluff rushed out of the gateway, and rush- 
ing to Uncle Harry, sat up on his hind legs. 

‘‘Well, young chap! Are you trying to 
show what you can doT’ Uncle Harry asked, 
at which Fluff repeated the trick. 


CHAPTER XI 


‘‘hasty hal” 

T he clack hands pointed to a quarter 
after eleven. 

The pupils were hard at work on some puz- 
zling problems. 

Miss Merling, correcting some grammar 
exercises, paused to look for a few missing 
papers, that she had laid aside. 

A violently waving hand attracted her at- 
tention. 

“What is it, Hal she asked. 

The boy, a new pupil, sprang to his feet. 
His hair was rumpled, and his face 
flushed. 

“Some one has taken my new eraser, and 


196 


*^HASTY HAr^ 


197 


I want you to make them give it back!” he 
shouted. 

‘‘Is that a nice way to speak?” Miss Mer- 
ling asked quietly. 

“Well, it’s just what I mean,” said the 
angry boy. 

“You should have said: ‘I can’t find my 
eraser,’ and I would have asked another 
pupil to help you search for it,” was the 
quiet reply. 

“But I didn^t lose it!” cried Hal, “Some 
one has toohen, I mean taken it, right off 
from my desk.” 

Miss Merling rose, moving toward the ex- 
cited boy. 

“I cannot allow you to make such an ac- 
cusation as that,” she said, firmly, her eyes 
looking straight into his. 

He clenched his right fist, and struck his 
desk. 


198 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

^^Someoneto — ” 

^ ^ Stop !” cried the teacher. ‘‘Now tell me, 
have you looked carefully for the eraser?” 

“IVe looked everywhere,” Hal said sul- 
lenly. 

“There’s one place that you didn’t think 
of,” she said. “Now, step out here. Eight 
here, beside me.” 

Hal Stanton stepped out, when he faced 
his class. 

“And now,” said Miss Merling, “I’ll con- 
vince you that you are wrong, and also that 
you did not look everywhere. Open your 
tightly clenched left hand.” 

He opened it, and there lay the rubber 
eraser. 

His face was a study of shame, and sur- 
prise? 

In his hasty search among the articles in 
his desk, he had fumbled about with his right 


^‘HASTY HAU* 


199 


hand, and all the time he had been clutching 
the ‘‘lost” article in his left hand. 

“Another time, Hal, think twice before 
accusing any one,” Miss Merling said. 

“I didn’t say any name,” Hal said, in a 
very low tone. 

“Worse than that,” said the teacher, “for 
in saying, ‘some one’ you were practically 
accusing all.” 

“I don’t see that,” Hal said, doggedly. 

“Eemain after school, and I’ll try to make 
it clear,” was the quiet answer. 

Long and patiently she talked with him, 
after the other pupils were gone, showing 
him that in saying that some one had taken 
an article, he had not left one of the pupils 
out, as being possibly innocent. 

Hal saw that she was right, but he was too 
sullen to admit it. Most of all, was he angry 
with himself. Why had he not loosened his 


200 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


grasp, and so let the eraser drop, before he 
had so hastily sprung to his feet, and shouted 
his angry accusation ? 

Why? Because he never thought him- 
self at fault. He could never believe that 
he had, by any chance, mislaid an article. 
His first thought was that some one had 
watched until a moment came when his eyes 
were looking in another direction, and then 
had hastily snatched the article and hidden 
it. 

He was a fine-looking lad, and very pleas- 
ant when everything went as he chose, but 
whenever anything chanced to displease him, 
his hasty temper led him to say and do things 
that made him far from attractive. 

His father had purchased a house on the 
street where Tess Haughton lived, and the 
two often walked to school together, Hal car- 
rying her books, and telKng her wonderful 


^^HASTY HAL^^ 


201 


tales of the town where he had lived before 
coming to Merrivale. 

One day when his stories seemed unusually 
“large,’’ Tess remarked quietly that she 
didn’t see why they ever left such a won- 
derful place. 

“Well, sometimes we wish we hadn’t,” 
Hal said, unabashed. 

“Why, Tess,” he continued, “you may not 
believe it, but blackberries that grew in a 
field just behind the schoolhouse were as big 
as, — ^well, as big as — ” He was try- 
ing to think what to say, when Tess helped 
him. 

“Those blackberries no doubt were as 
large as squashes/’ she said quietly. 

“Oh, come, now!” cried Hal, “There’s no 
sense in that, but they were large !” 

“You told me yesterday of apples as large 
as the biggest turnip,” said Tess, “so why 


202 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


isn’t it all right to say that the blackberries 
were as large as squashes, and have done 
with it?” 

‘‘Perhaps you don’t believe me !” he cried, 
hotly, but Tess was not the least bit afraid 
of him. 

“I surely do not when you talk as you’ve 
been talking the last week,” she said. 

“All right,” he said, sharply, “I won’t tell 
you what I was going to tell, about the little 
party I’m to have on my birthday. That 
vvill be two weeks from to-day. Mother gave 
me the invitations to mail this morning on 
the way to school. 

“You’ll find yours when you reach home, 
but I suppose you’ll not come for fear of be- 
ing bored. I was going to tell you about 
some things we’d planned, but never mind. 
Some of the others will tell you about them 
after the party.” 


*^HAST7 HAU^ 


203 


He didn’t say it in his usual sharp tone. 
There was something different in his eyes, 
a quaver in his voice. He was turning to 
leave her before reaching her gate, but Tess 
knew that this time he was not angry, but 
hurt. 

‘‘Stop, Hall” she said, catching hold of 
his sleeve. “I won’t let you race off like 
that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, truly I 
didn’t.” 

“All right,” he said in a low voice, but it 
sounded sulky, as he asked : 

“Will you quit saying my stories are 
large?” 

“I’ll stop saying it,” said Tess, “but I 
can’t help thinking so. 

“Oh, Hal, you’re such a nice boy! Why 
can’t you make your stories just a bit more, 
—I mean a bit less, — ” She stopped, look- 
ing up at him with eyes that were so serious 


204 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


that Hal forgot how vexed he had been, and 
laughed, yes, really laughed. 

Tess laughed too. 

‘‘Oh, I say, Tess! Let’s be good friends, 
and I’ll promise to cut down the size of my 
yarns a bit. When I start telling things, 
they’re not so huge, but the more I tell, the 
bigger they become. Say! I’ll promise to 
take some big seams in the next story before 
I tell it.” 

“All right,” cried Tess, with a gay little 
laugh, “And I’ll promise to try to believe 
it.” 

They were good friends once more, and 
when Hal turned toward home, he knew that 
Tess had done a good deed when she had 
checked his foolish boasting. 

“I’ll try,” he said as he ran up the path 
to the door, “I’ll surely try.” 

A few days later Antony and Jack were 


^^HASTY HAL^^ 


205 


walking along the broad avenue, talking of 
happenings at school. 

‘‘Did you notice Hal Stanton this after- 
noon when he stopped right in the middle of 
a story he was telling? Say, he looked to- 
ward Tess Haughton for a second, and then 
he said: ‘Well, maybe I’m stretching the 
story a bit, but truly, those four leaved what- 
you-call-’ems, clovers, I mean, were large. 
Weren’t they, Tess?’ ” 

“ ‘Surely they were,’ agreed Tess, and 
every one laughed. I thought it mean of 
them to laugh, but Hal really looked funny,” 
J ack concluded. 

“Did you notice that?” 

“They’ll soon stop laughing, if Hal con- 
tinues telling his yarns somewhere near the 
truth, and describing the things that he has 
seen as being of a possible size,” Antony re- 
plied, “for he’s a pleasant chap, and a first- 


206 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


rate fellow, all but his habit of telling pe- 
diculous yarns.” 

For a time they walked along, Jack’s arm 
linked in Antony’s, falling into step with the 
lively time that Jack was whistling. As 
they neared the square, they saw a girl com- 
ing toward them. 

‘‘Hello!” she cried, as she came up to 
them. “Oh, do excuse me. I was going to 
tell you something, but I’ve just remembered 
that I must go right into the next drug-store 
and telephone.” 

It was Patricia, and she raced into the 
store as if there were not a moment to lose. 

“Can you beat that?” said Antony. 
“That’s what she’s doing all the time. 
Well, she must like spending money for 
nothing,” Jack replied. 

“Oh, I say, let’s go in and see what she’ll 
do.” 


^^HASTY HAU^ 


207 


The two boys, laughing softly, entered the 
store, and were surprised to find Patricia in 
the middle of the fioor instead of in the tele- 
phone-booth. The moment she saw them, she 
rushed into the telephone-booth, and com- 
menced to talk. 

‘‘Give me Central ten thousand and ten.” 
She paused and then : 

“Is this the manager? Well, I’m calling 
you to say I’ll play for six thousand a week. 
What’s that? Well, I might take off ten 
cents a week. All right. I’ll surely be 
there.” 

Out tripped Patricia smiling, and eager to 
learn if the two boys had heard the silly con- 
versation, when to her surprise, the head 
clerk laid a hand on her arm. 

“I warn you to stop this nonsense,” he 
said in no gentle voice, “for it is nonsense 
and nothing else. You don’t pay any 


208 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


money, nor take down the receiver, and your 
imaginary conversations take time that cus- 
tomers would like to use. Now, don’t come 
in here again, unless you’d like to be put out. 

don’t like to spqak so sharply to a little 
girl, but she has been making a nuisance of 
herself for the last six weeks,” he said, turn- 
ing to the two boys when Patricia had an- 
grily rushed from the store. 

‘‘We wondered if she really used the 
’phone"?” Jack said. 

“I don’t think she ever really uses it, but 
she manages to make people wait for a 
chance to use it while she’s in there talking 
nonsense to no one at all.” 

On her way home Patricia ’s silly heart was 
full of anger toward the man who had told 
her to refrain from visiting the store in or- 
der to pretend to use the telephone. 

“I think he was just too mean for any- 


^^HASTY HAU^ 


209 


thing,” she said, ‘‘I guess I didn’t hurt his 
old ’phone.” 

She knew, hut would not admit that she 
had often kept busy people from using the 
telephone at times when they doubtless had 
important messages to send. 

Eeginald Dean heard of the happening, 
and he wasted no time in telling the other 
boys and girls all about it. 

One would hardly have thought that the 
news of her silly actions would have reached 
the neighborhood where she lived, but it had, 
and when she turned the corner of the old 
street where she lived, she saw Chub at play 
in the gutter in front of the gateway. 

Her aunt stood on the doorstep, shading 
her eyes with her hand, evidently looking for 
her. The moment he saw her. Chub sprang 
to his feet, and running to the nearest tele- 
phone pole put his hand up to his ear, while 


210 DOROTHIES RED LETTER DAYS 


he bent forward to speak as if the hole op- 
posite his mouth were a transmitter. 

‘‘Hello, Thentral!’^ he shouted. “Patri- 
thia hath juth come. Now, how thoon could 
you give her a plathe in your theater? I 
b’lieve you could get her for theven hundred 
dollarth a night. Juth hold the line while I 
call her.’^ 

“You little tease!” cried Patricia, and 
turning, she ran into the house. 

Scampering up the steps behind her, Al- 
gernon and Lionel tried to reach the door- 
way as soon as she did, with the result that 
Algernon ran between her feet, nearly trip- 
ping her, while Lionel raced around her in 
the small hall until he became dizzy and sat 
down. 

,“For the land’s sake, put those two little 
nuisances out,” said her aunt, “for I want 
to talk to you.” 


*^HA8TT EAU* 


211 


Patricia put the puppies out, and then went 
back to the little room and sat down on a 
low stool and waited, wondering what her 
aunt had to say. 

‘^Now, before I say a word, I’ll ask a ques- 
tion, and ye’ll do well to answer it. Hev 
ye been fooling with the store telephones 
down in the square, an’ if so, why hev 
ye?” 

^‘’Twasn’t any harm,” Patricia said, sul- 
lenly. 

‘‘Was you telephoning ter that Madam 
What’s-her-name that lugged ye ter New 
York, and then was glad ’nough ter let ye 
come back?” 

“I was not/^ Patricia snapped, “and I 
never want to hear from her again! I’ve 
told you over and over again that she prom- 
ised to make a movie star out of me, and in- 
stead just kept me in her kitchen working 


212 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


for her. No wonder I was glad to come 
back.” 

‘‘I s’pose if she’d promised to make ye 
Queen of England, ye’d hev gone with her 
ter let her try it.” 

Maybe I would,” said Patricia, ‘^for she 
had a way of talking that would make you 
believe her.” 

‘‘Well, she put ye in charge of the con- 
ductor, an’ ye landed here, so we’ll say no 
more about that, but the p’liceman stopped 
at the gate jist ’fore ye come home, an’ he 
advised me ter keep an eye on ye, so I’m go- 
ing ter. I tell ye, Patricia, keep away from 
them telephones, fer the storekeepers is reel 
mad about yer nonsense.” 


CHAPTER XII 


AROUND THE MAY-POLE 

I T was the middle of May, unusually warm 
and sunny, with a soft breeze swaying 
the flowers, and blowing the fountain spray 
this way and that. 

Dorothy raced across the lawn to where 
Nancy stood playing with Fluff. 

‘‘We’re to have a May party!” she cried. 
“Mother just told me, and the May-pole is 
already up. Come and see it.” 

Away they ran, Dorothy ahead to show the 
way. 

Sure enough, there it stood, as important- 
looking as if it were May first, and the men 
who had placed it, stood looking up at it as 

213 


214 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


if they were well-pleased with their work. 

‘‘She’s as straight as a birch-tree, and a 
good deal stouter,” said the taller of the 
three men, “so pick up your tools, boys, and 
we’ll run along.” 

The sun was shining, but a passing cloud 
let fall a few pattering drops. Dorothy and 
Nancy ran to the house believing that a 
shower was due, then laughed to find that the 
little cloud was but a joke. They raced back 
to where the new May-pole stood and skipped 
around it. Little Fluff, thinking himself as 
important as they, joined in the dance with 
little yelps of delight. 

He had no idea what it was all about, but 
he knew that he was enjoying the fun. 

“That’s a foine dance,” said John when 
they stopped to regain their breath, “an’ 
wid the middle o’ May here, we’ve quoite a 
foine show av blossoms in the garden fer yer 


AROUND TEE MAY-POLE 


215 


May party. It’s thrue they’re the sort thot 
gits busy an’ comes up theirselfs. Good 
luck, to ’em! sez Oi, an’ sure they’re lovely, 
every wan av thim.” 

‘‘Oh, John, they are lovely, and you work 
and work to make the gardens fine,” said 
Dorothy. 

“An’ why wouldn’t I, Miss Dorothy, whin 
I hov me foine little room in the servants’ 
quarters, an’ the best good luck a gardener 
iver had, a- working’ for people thot’s good 
to him, an’ me ould heart a-lovin’ yer little 
silf so I liov ter make a pretty place fer you 
an’ yer little friends ter play in.” 

“And you’ll enjoy seeing us dance around 
the May-pole, won’t you?” Dorothy asked, 
looking up at him. 

“Oi will, indade,” he replied, “an’ it’ll 
make me think av some av the grand toimes 
me an’ me f rinds had, over in th’ ol’ country. 


216 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


whin it was spring, an’ our hearts, loike the 
birds were all aflutter.” 

Mollie and Flossie were away for the day, 
and several of the boys were off on a tramp 
through the woods with Uncle Harry, so the 
pole had been delivered at the garden, and 
erected before any of the little neighbors 
had heard a word about it. 

^‘Come up to our own room, and I’ll show 
you something,” said Dorothy, laughing as 
she ran toward the house. ‘‘It’s all about 
the red book that I’ve been putting red let- 
ters in.” 

“I wondered if you had forgotten all about 
that,” Nancy said as together they mounted 
the stairs. 

“I’ve not forgotten it,” Dorothy said. 
“I’ve been marking each day that I thought 
fine enough to be made a red-letter day, and 
I thought I’d wait to paint them until I had 


AROUND THE MAY -POLE 


217 


ever so many days marked. I mean to paint 
them all on the first rainy day, and Nancy, I 
think I’ll make May-day one of the days. 
WeVe a fine, new May-pole, and we’re to 
have a May party, too.” 

From the upper drawer of her dresser 
Dorothy drew forth a book that she had 
kept for the important days, and sitting on 
a low seat by the window she read the list to 
Nancy. 

‘‘Now, the first day I’ve marked is the 
day that Antony came. I knew he felt shy 
about coming for the visit, but I knew that 
he longed to come, so when he had really ar- 
rived, I marked that day for one of the fine 
days to be painted.” 

“That’s fine,” Nancy said. “I’d surely 
choose that for one of the days.” 

“And next, I marked the day that the 
circus parade passed along the avenue. 


218 DOBOTHY^S BED LETTEB DAYS 


Don’t you remember the sweet-faced girl 
that rode the finest horse'?” 

‘^Indeed I do remember her, and weVe 
often talked of her since.” 

‘‘Well, I couldn’t forget her and I marked 
that day for her, and now, when I paint that 
place on the calendar red, I ’ll take my little 
pan of gold paint, and make a bright gold 
border around it, because of the fine news 
I’ve just heard. It was Jack Tiverton, you 
remember, who told us all about her.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Nancy, “and he said she 
ran away from home, and I remember some- 
thing else. She leaned from her saddle 
when you said you’d like to ride as she did, 
and she said she’d give the world to be you.” 

“Yes, oh, yes, and we all felt so sorry for 
her, and this morning Jack told me some 
more about her. She isn’t with the circus 
now. Some one, good and true, saw her 


AROUND THE MAY -POLE 219 

and loved her, and now she’s married, and 
has a lovely home, and she’s happy now.” 

‘‘Oh, I’m glad, so glad,” Nancy said, “and 
isn’t it splendid to hear this news that makes 
it so like the old fairy tales, ‘and they lived 
happy ever after.’ ” 

“And the next date that I marked was the 
day that Jack found the cave in the woods 
where the stolen goods were hidden, and he 
was given the prize.” 

“Well, you really had to mark that be- 
cause that was just a wonderful day,” Nancy 
said. 

“I marked the first rehearsal for the mus- 
ical play, because it went so smoothly for 
the professor, and I was glad, because he 
had worked so hard, and was so pleased. 
The next date marked is the day when Patri- 
cia came back to Merrivale.” 

“Why, Dorothy, you surely aren’t so glad 


220 DOROTHY’S RED LETTER DAYS 


to have her here that you’d mark the day 
when she returned?” Nancy gasped. 

didn’t mark it because I’d been long- 
ing to see her. 

‘‘I marked it because after hearing that 
she’d run away with that horrid Madam 
I ’ve-f orgotten-her-name, it was fine to know 
that she had come safely back to her aunt.” 

‘‘The next day is the day when we gave our 
play, ‘The Sultan’s Daughter,’ and every 
one had such a good time. ” 

Nancy threw her arms around Dorothy, 
and at that moment Aunt Charlotte and Mrs. 
Dainty paused at the doorway and smiled as 
they saw the two clasped in each other’s 
arms. 

“Oh, Aunt Charlotte, see what Dorothy 
has done! Look, Mrs. Dainty! Dorothy 
has been marking the red letter days as fast 
as they have happened, and every one that 


AROUND THE MAY -POLE 


221 


she has chosen has been a lucky day for — 
some one else. She’s not marked a single 
day for herself.” 

‘^Oh, but it isn’t as you think !” cried Dor- 
othy. ‘‘I’ve had lovely days all my own to 
mark, and on some of them, more than one 
fine thing has happened, but the calendar 
wouldn’t hold them all, and these that I’ve 
marked are the ones when I’ve been so glad 
for some one else that I simply had to mark 
it.” 

“Oh, now I know how you feel,” Nancy 
said, her hand softly patting Dorothy’s curls. 
“You feel just as I do when your father 
brings you some new gift, and my heart beats 
faster, and my throat feels odd and choky. 
He always brings me something nice, too, but 
he gives you your gift first, and when I see 
your eyes shining, I’m so glad that I forget 
to wonder what he’s brought for me.” 


222 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


Bless their loving hearts/’ reverently 
whispered Mrs. Dainty, ‘^and keep them al- 
ways as unselfish as they now are.” 

The day for the May-party was just the 
sort of day that the children had longed for. 
It was so warm and sunny that it seemed 
much more like J une than May. The May- 
pole dance had been practiced until it was 
certain that the long ribbons would be cor- 
rectly braided and then unbraided. The 
ribbons were pink and green, and crowning 
the May-pole was a huge wreath of bright 
fiowers. It was to be a large party, and the 
great garden proved to be a veritable bit of 
wonder-land for many of those who were 
new pupils at the school, and who now for the 
first time were enjo3dng the grand old Stone 
House, and its lovely garden. There were 
two fountains in the garden, a large one near 


ABOUND THE MAY -POLE 223 

the great gateway and a small one at the far 
end of the garden, and the children laughed 
when little Fluff raced from one fountain to 
the other, barking at each, as if hoping to 
stop the dancing spray. 

He was snow-white from the bath the 
maid. Sue, had given him, and Dorothy had 
fastened a big bow of wide pink satin ribbon 
on his collar. 

Of course he was petted by first one child 
and then another, and that was just what 
delighted him. And now a groom came out 
from the stable, leading Dorothy’s pony, 
Eomeo, his tail and mane had been tightly 
braided the night before and now combed 
out, hung in glossy waves. His forelock 
was tied with pink, and he had been groomed 
until he shone like satin. 

Dorothy was a fine little rider, and the 
children clamored; ^‘Eide for us, Dorothy, 


224 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 

ride for us!” She laughed as the groom 
held his hand for her, and placing her foot in 
his helping hand, she sprang up into the sad- 
dle, and was oh‘ at a lively pace, clearing first 
one great fiowerbed, after another, the little 
guests gaily cheering. 

She looked very lovely in her white frock, 
her cheeks pink with excitement, her bright 
hair flying, but she was not thinking of her- 
self. 

She was thinking of her pet, eager that her 
little friends should see his grace and 
beauty. 

Then she sprang from the saddle, and the 
guests took turns riding around the garden, 
but the younger children insisted that the 
groom lead Eomeo. 

And now from the summer-house came the 
sounds of music. The musicians were to 
play one selection, and when that was fin- 


ABOUND TEE MAY-POLE 


225 


ished, twelve boys and girls would dance in 
and out around the fine May-pole. 

They were all in readiness, and when the 
orchestra began the May Song, each of the 
twelve grasped a ribbon, and in and out in 
graceful rhythmic motion, Dorothy and 
Jack, Nancy and Arthur Dean, Flossie and 
Eeginald, Tess and Hal, Mollie and her 
cousin, Alec Merton, then Katie Dean and 
her cousin, Howell, danced until the ribbons 
were braided tight to the pole, then, turning, 
they repeated the dance until the ribbons 
were unbraided, and hung loosely fiuttering 
in the breeze. 

Little Fluff lay on the grass, quiet for 
once, because he had raced around the May- 
pole, inside the ring of dancers and very 
close to the pole, doing his best to excel their 
speed, and surely he had succeeded, for while 
they had danced in time to the music, he had 


226 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


circled the pole at least thirty times. 

Doubtless he thought himself much 
smarter than they. He was quite content to 
rest. 

Arabella and Leander had really enjoyed 
the May-pole dance. 

They had watched every step. 

‘^1 couldn’t dance because IVe never 
learned dancing. Aunt Matilda doesn’t ap- 
prove of dancing. Sometimes I wish she 
did,” said Arabella. 

^‘Well, I don’t know,” Leander said, ‘^for 
if you don’t try to dance, no one can say 
you’re gawky, and they can’t know how 
graceful you might have been if you had 
tried.” 

‘‘That’s smart, Leander,” Arabella 
drawled. “I guess I won’t try.” 

“There’s one here who can dance, and 
that is Nancy Perris,” said Arthur Dean. 


AROUND THE MAY -POLE 


227 


‘‘You will dance for us, won^t you, Nancy 
he asked eagerly. 

“Come over to the rose garden and I’ll 
dance for you on the tiled court. It is level, 
and easier to dance on than that lawn.” 

So, with her hand in Arthur’s, she ran 
across the lawn to the pretty white marble 
tiled court, the guests closely following. 

“Ask them to play a waltz,” she said, and 
a bewitching waltz they played to which 
Nancy swayed and dipped, and whirled in 
fairy fashion. 

There were no roses in bloom, but the 
bushes that surrounded three sides of the lit- 
tle marble court, were in full leafage, and 
there were spring flowers in abundance. 

Around the court the little guests sat upon 
the grass, and how they did applaud when, 
with a sweeping courtesy, she finished the 
dance. 


228 DOROTEY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


Patricia Levine did not clap her hands, in- 
deed, she did not even smile, but she saw and 
envied Nancy’s skill, and in her heart she at 
once determined to become a theatrical 
dancer. That, she thought, would be even 
finer than being a movie queen-, as Madam 
had suggested. 

‘‘She promised enough,” Patricia mut- 
tered, under her breath, “but I can learn to 
dance without any help from Madam Ga- 
zooks. It’s easy enough. I almost believe 
I could do it without any teacher, but per- 
haps a few lessons would help.” 

Arabella leaned toward her. 

“What are you saying to yourself?” she 
asked, but Patricia shook her head, and re- 
fused to reply. 

Soon they were all playing lively games, 
the favorite, as usual, being ; “Follow, follow 
me.” 


AROUND THE MAY-POLE 229 


When they had played until they were 
glad to rest, Dorothy with Jack led the way 
to the dining-room, where a feast was spread. 

And a great feast it was — ! 

How they talked and laughed as they en- 
joyed the good things ! 

To Antony it seemed like fairy-land, and 
to Jack he whispered; ‘‘Some day I mean to 
own a fine house, with a beautiful garden.’^ 

Under the table Jack grasped his hand, 
and held it for a moment. “I wish you 
luck,^^ he whispered earnestly. 

Dorothy leaned across to speak to Antony. 

“You look so wise, Antony, that I wonder 
what is in your mind,^’ she said. 

“Two big questions were in my mind,’^ he 
said, ‘ ‘ and the first was : ‘ How shall I work, 
and what shall I do to enable me to own a 
lovely home and garden some day?^ The 
other was; ‘Will Dorothy and Nancy be at 


230 DOROTHY^S RED LETTER DAYS 


either Gem Island, or Foam Eidge this sum- 
mer*?’ ” 

my father were here I know he could 
answer the first one, and he may have decided 
where we are to spend the summer. If he 
has, he could answer that, too.” 

Those who would like to know where Dor- 
othy and Nancy did spend a wonderful sum- 
mer, to enjoy their fun and frolic, and to 
learn the answer to a bit of mystery, may do 
so by reading ‘‘Dorothy Dainty’s Treasure 
Chest.” 


THE DOROTHY DAINTY SERIES 

By AMY BROOKS 

Lftrs^ 12mo Cioth Illustrated by the Author 
Price, Net, $1.35 each 



Dorothy Dainty 
Dorothy*s Playmates 
Dorothy Dainty at School 
Dorothy Dainty at the Shore 
Dorothy Dainty in the City 
Dorothy Dainty at Home 
Dorothy Dainty's Qay Times 
Dorothy Dainty in the Country 
Dorothy Dainty's Winter 
Dorothy Dainty in the Mountaiaa 
Dorothy Dainty's Holidays 
Dorothy Dainty's Vacation 
Dorothy Dainty's Visit 
Dorothy Dainty at Crestville 
Dorothy Dainty's New Friends 
Dorothy Dainty at Qlenmore 
Dorothy Dainty at the Stone House 
Dorothy Dainty at Gem Island 


“Little Dorothy Dainty is one of the most generous-neaited of 
children. Selfishness is not at all a trait of hers, and she knows the value 
of making sunshine, not alone in her own heart, but for her neighbor- 
hood and friends.” — Boston Courier. 


“ Dorothy Dainty, a little girl, the only child of wealthy parents, 
is an exceedingly interesting character, and her earnest and interesting 
life is full of action and suitable adventure.” — Pittsburg Christian Ad- 
vocate. 


“No finer little lady than Dorothy Dainty was ever placed in a book 
for children.” — Teachers' Journal^ Pittsburg. 

“Miss Brooks is a popular writer for the very little folks who can 
read. She has an immense sympathy for the children, and her stories 
never fail to be amusing.” — Rochester {N. K) Herald. 


LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.. BOSTON 


TOP-OF-THE-WORLD STORIES 

Translated from the ScandinaTian Languages 

By EMIUE POULSSON and LAURA POULSSON 

Illustrated in two colors bj Florence Liley Young 


'^HESE stories of magic and adven- 
ture come from the countries at 
the **top of the world, and will 
transport thither in fancy the children 
who read this unusual book. They 
tell of Lapps and reindeer (even a 
golden-horned reindeer ! ) , of prince 
rnd herd-boy, of knights and wolves 
and trolls, of a bov who could be 

i EMILIE- POULSSON 

hungry and merry at the same time — 
of all these and more besides I Miss Poulsson’s numerous 
and long visits to Norway, her father’s land, and the fact that 
she is an experienced writer for children are doubtless the 
Teasons why her translations are sympathetic and skilful, and 
yet entirely adapted to give wholesome pleasure to the young 
public that she knows so well. 



these stories are the elements of wonder and magic and adventure 
that furnish the thrill so much appreciated by boys and girls ten or twelve 
years of age. An aristocratic book — one that every young person will be 
perpetually proud of.” — Lookout^ Cincinnati t O. 


**In thb book the children are transported to the land they ilove best, 
the laud of magic, of the fairies and all kinds of wonderful nappenings. 
It is one of the best fairy story books ever published.” — Argns^Leadir^^ 
Sioux FaliSi S. D. 


For sale ky all boolaeUers or sent postpaid oa receipt 
of price by the publishers 

Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 


Boston 





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